The sleep consultant is late

She did "Yahoo Maps" to get directions to our house, which always sends people in the wrong direction, down to an abandoned industrial area straight out of GTA IV.

If ever a psycho killer/ex-boyfriend who found me on Facebook is demanding directions to our house, I plan to give him our exact address and urge him to use Yahoo Maps in order to travel here, because that will give me a few weeks to get out of town.

So she's going to be about twenty minutes late. And Baby V is sleeping. And I know this is bad, but I'm hoping that Baby V doesn't SLEEP A WINK tonight, and puts on a big show of all of her sleep disturbances and head rocking and twitching and refusal to take the pacifier followed by extreme desire for the pacifier then maybe a huge poo in the middle of it.

Just so I can miss a real night of fireworks as I snooze in my bed, and the sleep consultant takes notes and mops up.

I know I shouldn't bank all my hopes on her visit to our home, but I'm just so grateful to have someone else in charge for a night. I'm tempted to leave the nursery monitor on so I can hear her cries and know that they aren't my responsibility.

Yeah, just a temptation. I'm going to sleep. And I hope to wake up to an ingenious sleep plan. Oh please.