I Said What I Meant And I Meant What I Said

Margaret is on a pretty good schedule these days: up at 6-6:30, 2-3 hour nap at 9, 2-3 hour nap (usually shorter than the morning) at 3, asleep by 8:30 and one wake-up around 4.

And then there are mornings like this morning, when she gets up at 5:30.  It's a small thing, but I have to remember it, otherwise we get cute photo-ops.

Anyway, this morning we had to take Leo into the office (he's working on Very Important Things and the computer ate some of it), and on the way back (at about 8:15) Margaret nodded off.  I thought that it was just boredom - we'd stopped to get coffee, and so she'd been in the car for a half an hour or so - and when we got in, I thought she might put in the time before naptime in supervising me while I did the dishes.  She's done this before, and it has worked quite nicely.  This morning, however, I should have listened to what she was telling me in the car.

There I was, washing dishes, keeping up a nice stream of inconsequential chatter about what the weather was like, what we were going to do today, the phenomenally gluey substance left on bowls by rice cereal, ways that the kitchen could be remodeled to make it less purgatorial.  And M was banging Mortimer the Moose on the tray every so often in agreement.  And then there were a few quiet minutes, and I turned around and found this:

I had bored her to sleep.  And that's not her rubbing her eye - she was completely still.  Her hand was resting on the Moose, and her head on her hand.

I don't think the dishes are that exciting either.