So… THIS little turkey? He’s cute, isn’t he?
(Say that nine times fast: DROOL DRAGLINE DANGLING. And then make a stop by Sally’s Seashore Store for seashells.)
(Remember? Yesterday he was my favorite because he never vocalized any comments about my parking skills.)
(Today I was more inclined to tell him, “You’re OFF the favorite list, Pal.”)
(Don’t worry, he didn’t overly concern himself with that statement.)
First of all, you should know that at the dinner table last night, Thing 2 thought it would be HYSTERICAL! JUST HYSTERICAL! to smear his yogurt all over the top of his head.
In his hair.
Where it eventually dried before Mama could get to it with a washcloth.
And then there was a kitchen to clean up, which is the downside of cooking dinner, and homework to haul the boy through, and Hubs was solving computer virus questions over the phone, so I made the executive decision to SKIP Thing 2’s evening bath and dunk him in the morning.
He went to bed last night at his regularly scheduled bedtime, with his hair full of yogurt and everything.
… he got up out of bed last night at 11:30. I was experiencing some much-needed REM, where I was dreaming that I was remodeling a kitchen with cabinetry that snapped together and then snapped onto the walls exactly like giant Lego bricks. Talk about a home-improvement convenience!
I rocked Thing 2 at 11:30, even though I was disoriented, and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, so that I could see the big reveal of the kitchen I had been redoing.
(I’m sure it was going to be a fabulous kitchen, worthy of HGTV.)
At 11:30, Thing 2 was pleased with the whole business of sitting in the rocking chair with me, but he was NOT AT ALL INTERESTED in going back to sleep, thank you very much.
So, we tried the whole JUST LAY DOWN IN YOUR TODDLER BED HERE, THAT YOU CAN GET OUT OF SO EASILY, AND GO BACK TO SLEEP, BECAUSE IT’S 12:30 IN THE MORNING NOW, AND MAMA NEEDS A NAP.
In theory, this was a good idea. In reality, Thing 2 was out of his bed umpteen-eleven-and-four times, hollering at the baby gate blocking his doorway and climbing up onto his changing table. I logged in a complete workout with all the trips I made from my own bed to his bedroom door, where I demanded in my nighttime voice of gravel, “Get down off the dresser, and GET INTO YOUR BED!”
At 1:30, I was back to rocking him, which still wasn’t working.
At 2:00, he was back in his bed.
At 2:02, he was back out of his bed, dragging toys out of his toybox.
At 2:02 and thirty seconds, I hauled my pillows and a blanket into Thing 2’s bedroom and made myself a bed on the floor.
It was exactly as comfortable as you might imagine sleeping on the floor to be, but I was RIGHT SMACK THERE BESIDE THING 2, so every time he ventured out of his bed, I snapped my fingers and threatened to sell him to traveling gypsies, if he didn’t GET BACK TO BED, ALREADY, BEFORE MAMA LOSES HER MIND!!
I honestly think I fell asleep at 2:45. I couldn’t help it. I was uncomfortable, but exhausted.
At 3:00, I woke up to Thing 2 jumping like a national trampoline champion on his bed, while he laughed like a hyena being tickled.
I think I dozed off again at 3:15.
At 3:20 I woke up to find Thing 2 hauling a plastic Scooby Doo dog, a yellow dump truck, and a big, bouncy ball into his bed.
At 3:30, he was kicking his wall, singing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” to himself.
At 4:00, in the middle of my mental breakdown, Thing 2…
… FELL. ASLEEP.
I didn’t even have the energy to move from my FEELS EXACTLY LIKE A CONCRETE SLAB bed, so I just crashed, right there, with my arm falling asleep.
After my shower this morning, I had the ENORMOUS PLEASURE of walking into Thing 2’s bedroom, turning on the light, and waking him up! Oh, I even giggled at doing it; don’t judge me.
It took a sweet forever to wake that baby up, because he kept rolling over like a hibernating hamster, trying to hide his eyes from the bright light and mumbling that I should just go away already. Couldn’t I see he was trying to SLEEP?!
Mama won, and I got that little man OUT of bed, so that we could make an honest stab at staying on his schedule today.
Now remember, he put yogurt in his hair before bedtime. His hair was standing up in eighteen different directions, and it was CRUNCHY-HARD. His eyes were bleary with a lack of sleep. He was yawning and stretching and trying to lie down on the floor for an early morning nap.
Hubs took one look at him as he shuffled like a fraternity boy on a Sunday morning into our bedroom and said, “Son, let’s wash the party off of you!”
And THAT is almost 900 words to tell y’all that I really, REALLY need to head to bed early tonight, because Thing 2 wasn’t the only one up all night last night.
Carry on, and may your REM be uninterrupted tonight.