What's blue and white and T-I-R-E-D? A fishy!

Dear Andrew & Abby,

Oh, so much to talk about today...

As I type this (at 9:15pm), you are both sniffling in your beds. We have spent over an hour fighting about bedtime. Your dad and I are both ready to pull our hair out or sell you in a garage sale. Luckily for you, it's 9 pm on a Monday night in January, and there aren't many garage sales going on in the neighborhood, so I guess Daddy and I are going bald. We're pretty sure it's a holdover from our late night Sunday night. We live in Indiana, close to Indianapolis, home of the Indianapolis Colts, AFC Champions. Go Colts! It was a great game, and I don't regret letting you stay up to watch it, but it was a late night and we are paying for it tonight with over-tired, cranky, back-talking, whiny children.

Andrew was actually grounded from wearing his Peyton Manning jersey for a week during the bedtime wars tonight. Considering the desperation with which he begged for the jersey, that's pretty serious grounding. We had to make a special trip to the mall last Saturday to find that jersey. FIFTY-FIVE DOLLARS!!! Okay, it's not a fortune, but holy CRAP that's expensive. Luckily, I was able to convince him to get the bigger 10-12 size instead of the size 8, even though it was white instead of blue. So at least he should be able to wear it next year. I'm trying to get that cost-per-wearing ratio as low as possible.

Abby was also pretty into the game and has "Go Colts!" down to an art form. Today there was a new variation that came out as a result of her favorite book, "A Story of Christmas" (she calls it the Baby Jesus book). The new saying for the day is "Baby Jesus Go Colts!" I don't know why...
Last night, Abby also decided that she is a fishy. I'm guessing it's somehow related to the Laurie Berkner DVD we watched almost ALL DAY yesterday. I think we watched the Goldfish song a million times. Or maybe it just felt that way. This morning when I went into her room and said "Good morning, Sunshine!" the reply I got from a face buried in her pillow was a tired-sounding, "I a fishy."

Finally, I think my little fishy and her big brother are sleeping. Let's hope it's a restful restorative sleep and we don't have to do this again tomorrow night.

love,
Mommy

Go Colts!