Return of the blonde zombie

For a while there, a period of a few weeks, I thought I was going to make it. That was back in the day when Ethan decided that it was more fun to sleep through the night than stay up making high-pitched squeals for hours on end. Life was getting better as I saw my potential for sleep rise.

Then we went to Utah.

In Utah Ethan's sleep patterns - and consequently, mine - surrendered to a two-hour time-change and the constant variation of beds and bedrooms. There were, however, a couple 11-hour sleep spurts near the end of the vacation that made life worthwhile again for me.

But, in true Megan fashion, I left on the upswing. Now - on the other end of a two-hour time-change and a strangely familiar but still a little creepy crib, Ethan has decided that it is, in fact, more fun to make high-pitched squeals for hours on end rather than sleep through the night. So we are back to waking up at least twice a night. Last night, he woke up again before I ever even got to sleep.

I lie (I know, Herald Journal friends and other incredibly smart people who know the difference between lay and lie, I'm an idiot) there at night, trying my hardest to get to sleep so that I can at least forget about how I will have to wake up in another hour or so.

I know, I did it to myself.

Oh, these are photos that have nothing to do with sleep. These are of Ethan in Park City and hating that cold water at Aunt Cindy's house.