The Weary and Tired

Me and the boys went to church this morning for Palm Sunday and then on to the spring party that the Moms' group was having. I was really nervous because I've been kind of out of touch with most of the group for a while and I don't like being on the outside looking in. Each time Jacob and I start sliding in our level of participation with the moms, I'm get a little worried that maybe this is it for us. It was a nice run, but this is the end of my involvement with the happy community of mothers. But this is a group that has helped to shape and define my experience of mothering as long as I have been a mother, so it would be incredibly sad to see that chapter of my life come to an end. Thus the first big step back into the group is always a little unnerving, but once again the moms came through with making me feel welcome and belonging and the talk, however 'small' it may have been, was genuine and just what I needed.

We just got back home, and having fallen asleep in his carseat for a nice change, we settled Jacob into bed. I'm pretty freaking beat because my endurance for standing for long periods of time is shot due to being prostrate all week. And Zach is tired for his own reasons: He's been running again this last week, picking up my slack while I was recuperating, and he's got a cold of his own now. The bed looked nice and neither one of us could help falling right into it. I was chattering away because even though I'm exhausted, that's just what I do. Zach probably fell asleep within the first minute of my monologue because that's just what he does. He talks enough in his sleep to maintain the illusion that he is awake and listening to me until he says something that's a little too far off in left field, even for him. So this is the conversation we just had:

Him: I know.
Me: What?
Him: The guy.
Me: What guy?
Him: Hmm...
Me: Zach! Wake up!
Him: uhhhn...
Me: Zach, dammit, wake up (also elbowing him as I have realized he was talking in his sleep). What are you talking about (I know it's not going to make any sense but there is just such a thrill about carrying on a conversation with someone who is sleeping)?
Him: What? The guy, his face.
Me: What about it?
Him: The guy over by the merry-go-round.
Me: (sensing I'm losing him) What about the guy and his face?
Him: (almost waking up and sensing I am making fun of him) Shut up.
Me: hahahahaha

And then he actually continued the conversation but I was laughing so hard at him that I didn't hear the conclusion to The Man With the Face.

I should say that Jacob got the sleep-talking gene from Zach. He talks just as much in his sleep but it's not real conversations just yet. Last night it was something about, "No, I don't want to...(do something unidentified)!" I think of how I'd be missing out on that if Jacob didn't sleep in our bed. It's pretty good entertainment. I just hope the next kid isn't a sleep-walker.