We can sleep when we're dead, right?

Last night, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard Zoey crying.  I ignored it - well, I was just so tired that I continued to drift.  A short time later (really no idea how much later, but couldn't be much because it was only 11:45pm) I heard Violet and Zoey crying.  So I dragged myself out of bed, shocking Greg because I actually got up instead of kicking him.  Violet said she had to throw up - GAAH.  Grabbed her, ran to the bathroom - Greg was already there so he took over and I went back for wailin' Zoey.

I took Zoey back to bed with me and settled into the six inches she allows.  Greg took care of Violet and then she asked to come to our bed, too.  So it was me, Zoey, Violet, Violet (the Leapfrog toy that needs new batteries so it randomly makes noise and flashes its red collar light), Pig Pillow Pet, and Greg.  Violet was sniffly and asked for a tissue about every 45 seconds, Zoey was her usual shifty-movey-hair-pully-self and then when I was finally drifting off to sleep again, she headbutted me. Ouch!

Thankfully Greg decided to carry Violet back to her bed agreeing to "sleep" with her there.  I say "sleep" because even though Violet's bed can be twin size, right now it's in the toddler size configuration so even us shorties can't lay in it with our legs outstretched.  At some point she fell asleep and he was able to sneak back to our slightly less crowded bed.

It's no wonder we never feel rested.  Violet never slept through the night consistently until we put her in a big girl bed (which was right around age 22 months).  Zoey is 21 months now and I am really hoping that a big girl bed is going to change our lives for the better once again.  If only we can find the time to get to Ikea and buy the damn thing.