The Man With the Tube

This week Owen's obsession is art.

He takes pieces of paper, folds them up really tiny, and then draws people on them.

People with tubies.

His self portrait: 

(He cried because he couldn't get the hands right. I don't see the problem?)

(The tubie is the small circle underneath his chest.)

And this morning, he said, "Mommy, I'm going to tell you a story. It's called The Man with the Tube."

Me: Great! I love to hear stories.

He pointed to the guy on the left.

"There was a man with a tube."

Silence.

Me: Well, then what happened?"

Owen: Nothing. That is the story.

Me: Oh ummmmmm okay. I love it but the man looks sad. Is he sad because he has a tube?

Owen: No. He's sad because his tube can't reach his milk.

Me: Oh. That would be sad.

THE END.

Sleep......

Sleep for me is a vicious cycle of will I? Won't I ? Can I?

And yes, I (doctor recommended) medicate to help me sleep.

Judge all you want, but if you're close to me, then you've seen me without sleep.

She ain't pretty.

Or sane.

Anywho - all this to say - I went through a bad sleep cycle last week.

And luckily, I've learned that they are cycles and I will sleep again and the world is not ending, so life is a little easier with that understanding......

But I finally fell into a good deep sleep two nights ago.

And then I woke myself and Todd up.

Because I was trying to fix the engine of our car.

In my sleep.

The role of the engine was played by my bedside lamp.

I thought removing the engine (light bulb) would fix the car.

(that doesn't need fixing.....)

um yeah.

I don't know.

I'm weird.

And clearly I'm not meant to be a mechanic so I can cross that off my list now.

Phew.