Elizabeth (greyautumnrain) wrote,


Friday night was rough. Between some sort of stomach upset and gas combination Margaret was not sleeping well. We also think I had supply issues on account of accidentally dropping a pumping session at work this past week on account of extreme hosage. I don't remember all the details. I do remember dumping her in her crib and letting her scream while I went downstairs because I needed a break sometime around 2. When Warren asked what was up I think I mumbled some incoherent complaint about the baby kicking me.

Warren when upstairs right away and sprung our screaming child from baby-jail. He danced with her for ten minutes or so, then handed her back to me. It was much earlier than I wanted her back, but did feel better than I did when I'd dumped her in the crib. We went upstairs and eventually, some time after Warren came to bed, some sleep happened.

Once I finally did get to sleep the drama was far from over. I then had a particularly vivid and intricate nightmare. The basic plot was that hordes of shape-shifting killer robots were trying to find and kill Margaret (who was with me). The shape-shifting robots had shifted into multiple copies of Warren. In the dream this did not seem like a bad re-hash of Terminator 2 with overtones of Battlestar Galactica, it all seemed terribly reasonable and plausible at the time. In the dream my critical thinking skills were instead noting that some of the shape-shifting killer robots didn't have very up-to-date information because they were driving copies of his old car. Then somehow there was a Warren in the room with me, and just when I was thinking he was probably the real one because he'd been driving the S2000 it turned out that he was in fact a shape-shifting robot who shifted to a different form and pulled his gun to shoot Margaret. That is of course where I woke up. I think the moral of the story is never underestimate a shape-shifting killer robot.

Last night was much better. I went to bed at 9 and didn't get up until shortly before 8. Obviously I nursed Margaret several times in there, but it was a good, lovely cuddly night of sleep with no bad dreams that I remember.

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