Still Sleepy

Tory woke me up this morning bouncing around his room. I opened his door, and wrestled him to the floor. I changed him for the day while he fought me, kicking, squirming, determined to wear his pajamas and overnight diaper all day. All of this is part of his usual morning routine.

Ian usually has the same morning routine. This morning he lay on his stomach, clutching his cow blanket, watching me wrangle with his brother. I flipped him over to change him, and he stared at the ceiling the entire time. Such is the reaction of a drowsy child with sinuses packed full of snot in spite of a dose of overnight cold medicine.