Lack of sleep pleas

Dear Declan,

Please stop hiding in my lungs at night. Between the growing uterus and being sick (Maybe Strep 'A' - will be tested on Friday I hope.), I can barely breath as it is. Perhaps you are using the pair of lungs as some kind of funky in utero headphones? It sure feels that way. In any case, cut it out already. I'll shove one of the iPod earbuds into my bellybutton instead, OK?

Dear Scooter,

I know of no better kitty than you. Despite that, I need my own space in the bed. I love to cuddle with you, but the pillow is mine. I know that you like to be as close to my head as possible, but it's getting a bit much. Please understand that while I appreciate you bathing my face and washing my hair in the night, your breath is absolutely intolerable to me in my pregnant state. It's not very nice to have finally fallen asleep only to be wakened 5 minutes later by your OCD and rotting tuna breath.

Dear Nature,

I can handle the constant snowfalls. I can even handle the -30 and lower temperatures. I can no longer handle the dryness. Now that my wee daughter has been experiencing nosebleeds due to it, I feel I need to take it to another level. Regrettably, I am going to be bringing machinery in to help me win this battle. Get ready for gallons upon gallons of moisture in the air...