Sunday, February 1, 2009

Sleep? Sleep? I don't need no stinkin' sleep.

It's been very hard to come by lately. Very elusive. If it hadn't been for last night when J took the kids in our room and I retreated to Sammy's bed, I'm not sure that I would remember what it was like at all.

My kids are a little sick with a cough that, though pretty harmless, is quite deafening when I'm listening to it in stereo during story time. Also, Little Red (who still needs a new nickname, as the red hair is gone) is teething, but it only seems to really bother him at night.

A couple nights ago, I went to bed at 11:00, which is a fairly respectable bedtime nowadays. I am a girl with a lot to unpack, so I've been staying up until all hours of the night.

About an hour into sleep: fussy baby. Go, comfort. Back to bed.

An hour later: Girlie has devastatingly sore throat that is magically cured by a sip of water. Check all the kids. Back to bed.

Then: Some child of mine called out some question or request. Can't remember what it was. Only know that maybe I answered it correctly, maybe not. Anyway, the voice eventually stopped.

Later (because I stopped looking at the clock): Fussy baby. Smack my leg on the corner of our footboard (leaving a nasty bruise) as I stumble over the literal mountain of to-fold laundry that has accumulated at the foot of my bed. Almost swear. Get to little guy, smear on some Orajel, kisses, check kids, back to bed.

Then: "Mommy, I had a potty accident." Mumble instructions, make bed on floor beside me. Put Pull-ups on mental to-buy list.

4:00 a.m.: What is that yelling??? Oh, Sam Sam is yelling... Why is he yelling??? He's in Girlie's room, yelling at her for taking something off his bed. In his dream. Try to explain that she is sleeping, and he was just dreaming. Doesn't work. He doesn't believe me. He saw her. And he is mad.

5:35 a.m.: Red wants milk. Now.

And the day begins.

So last night, J took the boys in our room and I crawled into Sammy's bed for a night of (drumroll, please)...sleep. Apparently his bed is command central. In it I found:

A stuffed monkey.
A bear from the hospital.
Flounder (from Little Mermaid, not from Puget Sound)
A sand pail.
A digital camera.
A box of J's old business cards.
101 Dalmations. (the book, not that many spotted canines)
A nightlight cover.
Safety goggles (just in case).

I relocated all the 'stuff' onto the floor, for which I was later, and disbelievingly reprimanded (evidently it is 'not appwopwiate to put some people's stuff on da floor and sleep in their beds without asking').

And I slept.

5 love notes:

Bryner Family said...

Good for you! I'm glad you finally got one decent night's sleep. Maybe now you can function through another few weeks until you get another good night's sleep. :) It's been hard to come by around here as well. Natalie is doing great with the potty-training but evidently she can only be good at one thing at a time and since she's staying dry all night, she can't also be expected to sleep! Ugh! I am so exhausted too. Good luck! :)

Karen said...

I feel your pain...practically every night since my first child was born. I earned these bags under my eyes.

Amy R said...

That Sammy! He cracks me up!

Cory Elvidge said...

LOL! I read your post to Jared and we both laughed hard. Tell those kids that we love them! And STOP posting pictures of delicious looking cinnamon rolls when I am trying to make 2009 a sugar free year! :) xo

Peterson Pack of Wild Dogs said...

Why do I find this so comical? Because it's like my life being played out in your home. You are so great my luff. I love you. Get some zzz's soon...for the both of us@