This morning didn't go well.
We are down to one working heat source in the house, besides the wood stoves, which are sketchy, inefficient, and not up to code (in other words, not ideal when you are singlehandedly juggling a baby and a very curious almost-four-year-old). The heater is currently set up in the bedroom, which remains at a tolerable temperature with this heater, despite the rest of the house being 50 degrees. Peter crept into my bed some time between the 1:00am and 4:00am baby feeding, which was just fine with me.
But then he woke up BEFORE the alarm clock went off and trotted downstairs into the arctic zone. I had set the alarm extra early so that I would have time to turn on the oven to heat up the kitchen and suss out the best way to keep my family warm until it was time for Peter to go to pre-school. Forget that plan.
Peter: Mom, it's cold!
Peter: Mom, will you play with me?
Peter: Mom, this library book is not a book.
Me (before coffee): Uhhhhhhhh.
Peter: Mom, it's really cold!
Peter: Mom, I'm a fire engine!
Peter: WEEE OOOO WEEE OOO WEEE OOO WEEE OOO
Me: Here, have some hot chocolate.
Peter: Where's the whipped cream?
Me: We don't HAVE any whipped cream.
Peter: Mom, can you come here?
Peter: Mom, I want to show you something.
Peter: Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?
Me: PETER, I AM TRYING TO MAKE BREAKFAST!!! I CAN'T PLAY RIGHT NOW.
Peter: Mom, just settle down. You need to settle down.
Me: [hysterical laughter] You know what? You are right.
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