And if we have a 70 degree October day on a Saturday, then we're doubly screwed. That means we'll have snowdrifts well into June.
Whereas normally, the snowdrifts are almost completely gone by Memorial Day.
|Wisconsin: Tropical Paradise|
I've been checking the weather forecast a lot online before going out, since it's been so variable lately. Yesterday when I checked the forecast, it said in big red letters "SEVERE WEATHER ALERT!" Really? Like, hail or something? Yet the sky seemed pretty clear. Then I read further and learned that the SEVERE WEATHER ALERT referred to a frost warning. A frost warning, whoa! Put the kids in the storm cellar, and batten down the hatches, Pa! I think the basil's a goner!
Unfortunately I was unable to fully enjoy the gorgeous weather yesterday because I was more or less a zombie from lack of sleep. My precious little Baby W Snookums-Wookums, who is a fantastic little kid, has just one single fault (other than he thinks it's really funny to drink the bathwater after he has peed in it), and that is that he's an awful night-time sleeper.
|Mr. 10-Wakeups Per Night|
I've chronicled Baby W's poor sleep (and by extension, my poor sleep) before, and complained fairly extensively about it on Facebook, to the point now where the first thing friends do when they see me is get a very concerned, kindly look on their faces and say, "How ARE you doing?" and pat my shoulder. And the second thing they do is then walk away briskly, because they're afraid they might catch the poor-sleeping kid bug from me. You never know, it might be contagious. I'd do the same in their shoes.
Since I was fairly wrecked by a rough night, David kindly took the kids to the park in the afternoon while I laid down and pretended to take a nap. But I couldn't sleep. What kind of unjust world is this, in which there is suffering and pain, in which evil triumphs over good, in which we are conscious of our mortality, and in which someone is incapable of taking a nap when given the opportunity?
My grandmother always said that lying down with your eyes closed was basically as good as taking a nap. I'm here to tell you that grandmotherly wisdom aside, that claim is completely and utterly bogus. How could lying down with your eyes closed come even close to having the benefit that a nap would? That doesn't even make sense! My grandmother knew how to pluck a chicken, though, so I'm going to give her a pass on this one.
There have been some tiny glimmers of hope. Once every two weeks or so, Baby W sleeps a solid 6 hour stretch, so I know he's capable of doing it. I'm holding out hope that we can find some mutually agreeable arrangement that will improve my sleep, that I will be able to minimize any associated unhappiness on the part of Baby W, and that we can work through this as a family. I'm beyond holding out hope for the basil, though. It's toast.