I must say, I am so glad that the last few weeks are over. So glad. Cale and Keaton both had small surgeries. Keaton had tubes, which ended up being a piece of cake. He came out of the hospital room bouncing, full of energy, and getting into everything. He hasn't stopped since. Cale, on the other hand, had his tonsils out...which was definitely no piece of cake. He hurt pretty badly and cried a lot during the week after his surgery. And to be quite honest, he was downright mean. I kinda felt like we gave him a "be mean" free pass because we knew he felt so awful.

But, about a week ago things started to finally get better. Cale is back to himself. Well mostly. He went into surgery with a fairly deep, raspy voice that he has had all his life. He almost always has sounded a little hoarse. He came out of the surgery with a cartoon character, somewhat nasal-ey voice. He totally does not sound like the same kid. It's crazy. I catch myself just listening to the sound of his voice, his laugh. It catches me off guard because it doesn't sound like "Cale".

But, I really do think he's already a little happier since he got his tonsils removed. I don't know if it's because he's sleeping more soundly at night or what, but he seems more smiley and less sullen, so that's good, right? I have my fingers crossed that he will start regularly sleeping completely through the night...which means I will get to sleep through the night. I'm not quite sure what it would feel like to consistently sleep through the night. I vaguely remember the feeling of waking up well-rested; Looking in the mirror and seeing a face without massive bags and red, bloodshot eyes. Why didn't I appreciate sleep before "kids"? At least there's coffee. Lot's and lot's of coffee.

Cale might have two or three good nights, but then the streak breaks and he's back to waking up. It's been this way ever since he was a baby. If I had known we would still be going through this at three-years old...let's just say it was best that I didn't know. When he was in a crib, he would just scream and cry until we came to him. But, ever since he's been in a bed, with the ability to come and go as he pleases...we suddenly are awoken to the slamming of doors, the pitter patter of little feet, and all-too-often the sound of his shrill cry as he makes his way across the house. What a crappy way to wake up...the dread I feel when I hear that sound because I know it may be...no, WILL be a battle to get him back to sleep. Oh, I'll get him in bed...but to sleep is another story.

And he always wants me to sleep with him. Not him with us in our big, comfy bed, but me with him in his bunk bed. Now don't get me wrong, it is a step up from his tiny doll-sized toddler bed that he transitioned to after the crib. But, there's just something about climbing into a bed with the feeling of cracker crumbs on your bare feet, rolling over to find a half-eaten cheese stick on your pillow...which you also realize has a large, conspicuous-looking stain...probably juice but possibly something else a little worse than juice. It feels contaminated. At least it's my offspring's contamination, right?

Keaton has been pretty regularly sleeping through the night for awhile now. Thank you Lord for low-maintenance babies. Keat is such a chill little guy and besides getting into absolutely everything he can possibly find to get into...he's pretty easy. But on the down side, his favorite hobby right now happens to be snatching toilet brushes when nobody is looking, doing who knows what with them, as he runs through the house acting like he's got some sort of special prize. And this is especially hard for me because I find toilet brushes disgusting. The drippy water that splashes from them as you take them out of their base...makes me shudder. Toilet water in general grosses me out. I remember dropping my glasses into the toilet one time when I was in high school...and I very well considered throwing them away but I knew my mom would kill me so I washed them about a hundred times and didn't wear them for awhile. Stupid I know.

Back to Keaton's toilet fetish, I would just put the toilet brush somewhere other than beside the toilet...but where? I don't want to put the disgusting thing on the counter or on a shelf...or anywhere for that matter. I figure the toilet is something equally disgusting, so the brush just belongs there beside it. I can't wait to tell Keaton stories of his toilet brush fascination when he's older. I guess I really need to snap a picture...but I can not bear to let him linger with it because it always ends up in his mouth. The other day I caught him running through our bedroom with the toilet brush in one hand, and a large spoon in the other. Because those two things totally go together. I'm sure you're just dying to come to our house for dinner now, right?

This is why we can't have nice things. Well, one of the many reasons.