I logged out early, and I thought I'd just sit up long enough to finish the one chapter I was reading in my book.

Three chapters later, I glanced idly at the clock, eeped, and turned out the lights.

I woke up around 3 to go to the bathroom.

I woke up at 4 to go to the bathroom again. (Stupid diet.)

I woke up at 5 to Penny's desperate sobbing and calling out for me. It turned out that she wanted me to go downstairs and get a toy. A toy of which she already had a duplicate in her crib. I refused. She talked me into sitting and rocking her for a little bit.

You know, when she sits on my lap and lays against my chest, I can rest my cheek on the top of her head. It's hard not to compare that with what Matt and I called the bug-baby pose, infant Penny curled into a little ball on our chests.

Eventually, I got Penny back to bed, and went back to bed, myself.

Of course, she talked for a little while.

Around 5:30, the cop who lives next door had to leave for work. But first, he had to get his son to move his extremely noisy muscle-car.

At 6, when the alarm went off, Penny was already talking again. I stalled her for another ten minutes, but the "Mommy? Mommy, come on!" was getting more and more insistent, so I got up.

The saving grace to my morning is that Penny was fairly good. She entertained herself while I got dressed (or rather, entertained herself by watching me dress -- apparently, the height of humor for a two-year-old is watching Mommy spit toothpaste into the sink) and asked for a lot of things she couldn't have, but didn't throw fits when I told her she couldn't have them.

I acceded to the reasonable requests, of course -- a cup of milk, a couple of books, the heavier coat which was totally overkill for the weather but which is her favorite.

We were halfway to her daycare when I heard a pitiful squeaking sound coming from the backseat. I glanced back, half-panicked that she was choking on something, but it turned out she was just playing with her squirrel puppet, making little squeak noises for it.

When we got to daycare, most of the classroom was swarming with older kids waiting for the bus, and almost none of her actual classmates and friends had arrived. She clung to my leg with a whimper. I looked around in desperation.

"Look, sweetie -- there's Ms. Heidi."

Ms. Heidi was Penny's favorite minder in the infant room, and still holds a spot in her heart. Penny wandered gamely toward her, and then she spotted TJ playing on the floor next to Ms. Heidi (I hadn't seen him because the tunnel/slide toy was in the way) and she lost her tentativeness.

"Bye, sweetie! Have a good day!" She didn't look around.

I peeked through the window on my way back to the car. She was next to TJ on the floor, and they were playing some game involving the design on the carpet. Toy cars, maybe? I couldn't see. TJ looked up and waved, and I waved back, and threw him a kiss.

I confess, I miss my morning dance.

No Hall last night, and everyone online seemed tired/grouchy/generally uncommunicative, so I threw in The Emporer's New Groove for something to do. I wasn't expecting much of it -- a B-list Disney flick. A time-killer of a movie.

I nearly fell off the couch, I was laughing so hard. I almost suffocated from trying to keep my giggles quiet enough to not wake Penny. Too. Too. Too funny.

Sometimes, I'm wrong, and I like it.

--Liz