So C was pretty bummed this year about not having a Superbowl party in front of his giant projector screen, but he held it in well. He isn't complaining too much about not having a place for the projector in the new house, either. We ended up going over to Tom and Pattie's house to watch the game with them and the Hacklers, and we had fun...none of us so much as M, who is quickly becoming a Thomas groupie. Thomas got down and wrestled around with him, and M ran 90 miles an hour until 8:10. We knew better than to break his routine, but we hoped that he would wear himself out. Riiiiiight. I took him home and had him asleep by 8:30, but he woke up at 2:27 with a major diaper breakdown. I got him cleaned up and just took him to bed with us, but he flopped and wiggled all over me until 4:52, at which point an hour and a half of no sleep and the tears streaming out of the eye he had just elbowed made my head spin like The Exorcist. I yelled "take him NOW" to Chris and rolled him to his daddy's side of the bed. Chris told him sternly to go to sleep, and he cried halfheartedly for a minute and then dropped off, and we all managed to get one final hour of sleep in. Again, to all of you who accuse us of being boring now that we have Mason (ah-hem...Kristin!), he does NOT do well off his routine. Period.
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