Hush Little Baby; Please Go to Sleep!

Hubs has been living the high life in Far, Far Away and learning the intricacies of some computer server’s software, the likes of which no normal human being will ever begin to understand because WHAT PERCENTAGE OF THE WORLD’S POPULATION UNDERSTANDS THINGS LIKE BINARY AND HTML? And really? Binary and html are just the tips of the iceberg here, I’m afraid. There is so much more of that iceberg which is under the water and hidden to those who just push the ON button and expect the computer to boot up and work. Magically.

While he’s been away, the boy has taken it upon himself to sleep on Hubs’ side of the Sleep-By-Number bed.

It’s been a joy, people.

First of all, you need to envision a fairy tale animal which is 33% ferret, 33% raccoon, 33% Jack Russell terrier, and 1% neurotic rabbit. That animal, however goofy it might look, would be the boy. In bed. At night.

He spends a great deal of time making a nest for himself. Pillows are shuffled and rearranged and stacked and unstacked, because his definition of cozy differs from mine. His cozy is my HOLY SNOT, BATMAN! I HAD NO IDEA WE EVEN HAD FOURTEEN EXTRA PILLOWS IN THIS HOUSE, LET ALONE THAT THEY’D ALL ACTUALLY FIT IN THIS BED. WITH US. He has also taken it upon himself to readjust his Personal Sleep Number every night, and it takes him twenty-six minutes to make a firm decision on which number is actually best for that evening. The first night, he wanted a firm 95. The second night, he threw caution to the wind and took it down to a big, fat 0, which made me feel like I was sleeping on the edge of the Grand Canyon because DROP OFF, PEOPLE! AT THE HALFWAY POINT IN THE MATTRESS, THE BOY’S SIDE JUST DROPPED OFF INTO THIN AIR. I had to practically holler at him from my lofty vantage point, as I said, “Put the remote control down and go to sleep, before I use both of my feet and kick your sixty-five pound body out and onto the floor.”

(He had no idea that he was actually safe from being booted onto the floor, because I would have first had to DIG him out of the mattress canyon he’d made for himself.)

As if the PREPARATION TO SLEEP isn’t enough, the actual sleeping part brings so much more to the table. The boy throws arms and legs in every direction. He sits up in bed, totally unconscious to the world around him, looks around, and then he turns. Sideways. So that he’s using me as a pillow and hanging his feet off the edge.

Added to this is the simple fact that Cat 2 has taken to sitting like a vulture on my pillow at night, staring down at me as if to say, “I cannot sleep on my special blanket on the foot of this bed, because your new roommate keeps kicking me. If I’m going to be awake, I’m going to go prowl the house and find something to destroy. I thought you should know ahead of time.”

People, I now know what stressful nights taste like.

But then, last night, with his little head on the pillow and his eyes drooping mightily while I was propped up reading my book, the boy whispered, “Mom, I sure do love you. And I sure do miss my dad; I want him to come home.”

And my heart?

Well, it grew three sizes last night. And it was all mushy like oatmeal.

1 thought on “Hush Little Baby; Please Go to Sleep!

  1. When Dave is gone overnight – which I also hate – I leave the porch light on in the front and the back and the living lamp and the hall light — If burglars are watching, they know my patters and will leap when the prch light is on all night… because it's a sure sign that the man of the house is gone… and our almost 13 year old dog won't hear you coming anymore… It's so stressful and I NEVER sleep well while he's gone. Hate it.

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