As I mentioned yesterday, last weekend was a hectic one. It was also a monumental one.
Emery hosted her very first sleep over.
Her best friend came to our house with her pillow, stuffed bunny and impossibly small suitcase to catch some shut eye.
Only there wasn’t much shut eye.
Josh and I were exhausted from the go-go-go of a long week and we couldn’t even muster to energy to clean up from the morning’s birthday party. So being excellent parents and hosts, the girls dined on take out and watched a Minnie Mouse movie on the floor while Josh and I collapsed on the couch. That’s fun, right?
The girls thought so.
It’s pretty ironic that they are called sleepovers. Because I assure you, there wasn’t much sleep happening.
But there was a lot of giggles, bouncing around and general mischief. At 3 a.m. And 4 a.m. and 5 a.m.
And isn’t that what it’s really about, anyway?
Adding to the madness, that night also held one of the loudest and brightest thunderstorms in recent memory. So even when we did manage to quiet the giggles for a few minutes, the girls were right to shrieking and bouncing with each roll of thunder.
When I woke them at 7 a.m., it was a flash back to college.
But really, for being just shy of 4 years old, I think they did wonderfully. No tears for momma from our sweet guest and Emery didn’t ask me to send her friend home (which according to my mother, I did quite often when I had friends over).
But next time?
The sleepover is at someone else’s house.