Anatomy Of An Alleged Night's Sleep

9:00 PM - Pantyhose on an octopus pajamas on Sprout.

9:30 PM - warn Evil Genius it's almost time to wrap it up, attempt to rock Sprout (who has other plans).

10:00 PM - attempt to convince Evil Genius to heed parental authority and wrap it up, still rocking Sprout, who is writhing like she's being pinched, poked, and stabbed with hot needles while voicing her protest about sleep in general and being rocked in particular at the top of her lungs.

10:15 PM - make another pass at the Evil Genius, who is suddenly intent upon perfecting his impression of a particularly slow-moving Sloth.  Try no to drop Sprout on her head while she determinedly seeks solace in abrupt impact with the floor.

10:30 PM - Remind feline that caterwauling next to the head of the child I am trying to get to sleep is probably not such a good idea.  

10:45 PM - Tell Sprout she is going to be the entree for tomorrow night's dinner if she doesn't settle down.  At this point, the girl is so tired she cannot keep her eyes open, but she is still struggling.  Sleep?  Is for chumps!  The Evil Genius has now taken forty-five minutes to clean up two lego bricks and an army man.  Several hundred to go.

11:00 PM - threaten to kill and eat any child who is not in bed asleep in less than five minutes.  Sound convincing.

11:10 PM - deposit soundly sleeping Sprout in her bed, making sure her "nankie" (the blanket Mum knit her that has become her one and only Thing That Must Always Be In Sprout's Presence) is covering her.  Remind the Evil Genius for the umpteenth time that he will sleep better on a bed NOT covered in small, poke-y toys, then give up and wish him sweet dreams.

11:15 PM - crawl into bed with an exhausted Someone, cuddle up, drift to sleep.

11:48 PM - wake to crying Sprout noises.  Go and comfort her.

11:52 PM - back to bed.

11:58 PM - more crying Sprout.  Rock her, comfort her, finally peel her out of previously perfectly comfortable pajamas that are now, apparently, the toddler equivalent of shrink wrap dipped in acid and entirely intolerable.

12:43 AM - back to bed.

1:30 AM - rouse from slumber to go cover now-pajamaless Sprout who has managed to roll herself out of her nankie cover and finds a general house temperature of 76 degrees to be sub-arctic.

2:22 AM - repeat above step.

3:36 AM - repeat above step.

4:20 AM - wake from sound sleep to feel son tapping leg and loudly voicing his concern over his stomach burbling.  Remove to the hallway to discuss the nature and location of the burbles while reminding him that there are others sleeping and whispering will suffice.  Inform son that said burbles probably mean he will be needing to run to the bathroom with greater frequency for a bit.  Delight at the information that he has already had diarrhea once tonight.  Joy.

5:49 AM - wake to Someone angrily admonishing cat to quit scratching outside the litter box in which she has just made a deposit, because twenty minutes of covering it up with non-existent floor-litter is enough.

5:50 AM - out of bed and removing sheets, as a cat has peed on Someone's feet.  Again.  Start laundry, make bed, lie down.

6:00 AM - Turn off Someone's alarm.  Sprout whimpers.  Oh...no...

6:15 AM - hear thud as Sprout climbs out of bed.  Help her onto the big bed because she doesn't climb very well while holding her nankie.  Try to convince her that she wants to go back to sleep.

8:00 AM - wake pinned by snoring Sprout because Evil Genius's alarm is going off, and despite being mere inches from his head he has not heard it and is still asleep.  Call out to him with ever increasing volume to turn. that. damned. thing. off!

8:47 AM - Sprout is awake, again, and is now declaring the day ready to start, thankyouverymuch.

Spend rest of day in sleep deprived haze.

Repeat with variations on the theme.