O Sleep, Where Art Thou?

Nighttime has taken a nose dive in my personal list of "Favorite Things to Do". Seems as if sheer exhaustion carried us through the first two nights of jetlag recovery. As for the 2nd two nights, I am finding myself as a human pinball, ricochetting helplessly between "ravenous/I need to burp" Marcus and Lydia's incoherant requests (my button is open on my pjs/I want to go downstairs/I have an owie on my finger) all of which are presented in unrelenting sobs. Yes, in her 2-year old mind, the sky really IS falling. All of this leaves me with uninterrupted sleep between the hours of 3:30am and 6:30am. Except for last night, when ravenous Marcus was again ravenous at 4:47. There. Now aren't you thankful you didn't travel to Europe for Christmas with two small kids?

Ricochet: the motion of an object or a projectile in rebounding or deflecting one or more times from the surface over which it is passing or against which it hits a glancing blow.

I couldn't define it better myself.