12 Hours

I once read that the key to a happy toddler is a warm bath, good food, a few friends and 12 hours of sleep.

After sleeping from 12 to 12, taking a shower, then eating lunch with Cecelia while Rex watched the kids, I must admit that this advice is true for mommies, too.

While the other factors played a big role in keeping me from driving my Costco cart head long into a cellphone junkie who cut me off at the corner of fax paper and jumbo sized pretzles, the major kudos goes to my long stretch of sleep. And since such lengthy zzs are ususally reserved for the comatosed, Rumplestiltkzin and the occasional drinking binge (in my case, half a glass of white zinfendel) I am going to revel in this once in a blue moon experience. (For you other frazzled mommies, this is also known as a "nah nah nah nah NAHHHHH nah.")

Sad but true, rested mommies are kind of like a solar eclipse: it happens only once every few years. And, like the eclipse, if she never gets this rare stretch of dozing, and you look at her the wrong way, you might be forever blinded by her burning gaze.

Hey, the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, right? I stand by my astronomy reference. And on that note, good night. May you sleep under a bed of (as my kids would say) tinkle tinkle little tars...

PS: In an effort to show my appreciation for my rest, I am even submitting photo A, taken by Herb Ritz Crackers (my husband). I have turkey neck. I have acne. Those with a discerning eye might even find drool. I bet none of you nosey bodies had as much sleep as me, so I just don't plain care.

PSS: On a final note, is that not the cutest pillow on the planet? I could just lick those stripes right up. I obviously have problems.