Insomnia causes delusions.

Like thinking nonstop work all day long is a good idea.

Like being absolutely sure that eating five slices of bread for dinner is normal and not at all a betrayal of your nutrition plan.

Like saying the words, "I'll mop the basement tonight" out loud when everyone can hear you and really believing that you can.

My family just left for Shabbat dinner at F's house. F is E's sister and she's very sweet. She has a daughter who is a horrible, snotty teenager and a son who is a hot doctor.

F stopped by this morning after being called in by Ebby's mom, Mom E. T left the house this morning to shop for J's upcoming birthday party, a party 90 people large that is happening here on Sunday. The plans were in place right before T's visit to the ER, so naturally after all that, her family and in-laws took over cooking for the entire thing.

That left shopping for dry and paper goods and fixing up the basement, which we have been working on anyway.

As T left this morning Mom E showed up and I died a little inside.

Mom E was dropping off some baskets for the party, and of course she then had to say hello to the baby. And then of course she had to linger and ask what he ate for breakfast and if he had any fruit yet. And if I gave him milk. She was with him in the kitchen so I went about my business as if she weren't there, because I was trying to will her away as I still haven't forgiven her for DRIVING ME CRAZY.

I heard her talking to me from three rooms away and as I bit my tongue about that I went nearer to her and asked her to repeat herself.

"When you are here along with him and you do your work, what does he do? Who plays with him?"

"The %$#@!#$%! dog!"

Just kidding. That's not what I said.

I told her that he usually just plays in the play room or follows me and "heps" as he puts it. She didn't seem satisfied with that and told me I should only do my work while he's sleeping. Rather than explain that I can't mop the wood floor in his room while he's sleeping and that he only naps for less than an hour before the other two start getting home and that HE IS JUST FINE PLAYING ON HIS OWN FOR AN HOUR IN THE MORNINGS THANK YOU VERY MUCH I just smiled and told her I had a lot to do today in getting ready for this party, which is true.

I thought rather than split up my share of the work between today and tomorrow I would do as much as possible today so that I can nap tomorrow. Saturday naps are very important to me and since no one is cooking in this house, T and I are really looking forward to our pre-party down time.

I offered to stuff the goody bags along with some of my regular housework and some irregular housework created by the needs of the party. Those sorts of things include washing the crystal that the woman who lived and died in this house before us left behind, making sure the curtain that is hiding the cess pool trap is hung and figuring out why in tarnation the dehumidifier chose NOW to stop running properly.

I was quite busy.

But I've been in child care for half my life now and I have tackled way harder chores with several more children present. I thought this one baby whose routine I know like the back of my hand and who is quite capable and more than willing to entertain himself free of his oppressive older siblings for a short, precious while would be ok in my care while I did a few things.

But Mom E didn't think so, and she told me as much.

She then called F and asked her to come over since she herself had to run.

F never misses a chance to show up and visit the baby, as evidenced in her bedtime visit the night T was in the hospital.

But when she arrived she too had been bested by Mom E.

She had been told Mom E was there and that they were visiting. She had no intention of hanging out there all day to do half of my job while I did the other half of my job. She played for a bit, chatted with me while I tied goody bags, snuck a Kit-Kat and then thanked me for my time and left.

I finished everything I had intended today, except for the basement floors, which I offered to clean because I don't like how the cleaning lady does it (I'm getting territorial, I know, but she leaves whole sections unmopped!) and in a moment of excessive lack of sleep induced delirium I actually volunteered my night of freedom to mop down there.

The words were out before I knew what was happening.

In the course of the evening both T and I forgot that the baby needs to eat dinner (so maybe he's not ok in our care) and got lost in our party planning. We were setting up tables for food in the basement, dining room and living room and deciding how best to strategically place the scented candles that would mask the cess pool trap (this sounds a lot grosser than it really is -- they had it pumped Wednesday night and it's empty now) when it dawned on us that since the rest of the family was going to F's for Shabbat, the two of us staying home would probably get hungry.

I whipped up some soup and fed the baby while simultaneously reading Curious George Rides a Bike to J. I walked R through choosing an outfit for the evening without setting her off, a process which requires an hour of time, three glasses of water for the parched throat you get using your "calm voice" and expert level skills at dodging land mines, because that is how carefully you have to tiptoe around her potential tantrums. I have perfected the mixture of firm, order-giving tones and understanding, patient murmurs. She got dressed pretty quickly and I just pretended not to see the small hole in the back of her tights, as did T.

After they left I put the baby to bed and then thought, "If I go sit down and blog I am going to lose steam and I'll never get the basement mopped." And then that's exactly what I did. I sat down. I wrote this. And now I am so severely low on steam that I might not make it to the shower.

Wait.

I know what can fix this.

Chocolate.