I understand that you've been a little under the weather and that it's hard to sleep with a cough and snotty nose. I didn't mind sitting up with you, sleeping in a chair for two nights so that you could get a better night's sleep, at the sacrifice of my own. This is what a mother does and, I am told, it's part of the 'magic' of parenthood. Some day, I might even look back upon it wistfully, longing to do it again. Anything is possible.
I also understand that it's nice to want to read a little in the middle of the night when having a hard time falling asleep. In fact, it is something I do quite often myself.
But, why, for the love of god, did you insist that I read to you last night at ONE A.M. O' CLOCK OF THE MORNING?!?
I am trying to cut back on coffee. I am trying to get up early to excercise. That you repeated "Book! Book! Book!" like a little chicken over and over, flinging your head and shoulders backwards if I went anywhere near your crib whilst unleashing an unholy screech, does not help me with these goals in the least.
I will read to you pretty much ANYTIME you want me to but I must request that we keep it strictly between the hours of 7am and 7pm for the sanity of your dear mum.
I love you dearly.
Your Very Very Tired Mama