By The Wiz
My son woke up crying last night. I haven’t had a newborn for years, and I am used to my full night’s sleep, thank you very much. I went into his room to see what was wrong, and he was sobbing and saying “My room is messy.”
So I brought him into our (equally messy) room and put him in our bed. He proceeded to steal my pillow and kick my back for much of the night. You see, sleeping with a kid is much cuter in theory than it is in real life. It’s sort of like the visions you have before you get married, how you’ll cuddle all night long, until you actually get married, and then it’s like - MOVE OVER, and stop stealing the covers! (I am the cover-stealer in our marriage.) Sleeping with a kid is not the dreamy, mother-love, parental heaven it’s deemed to be. It’s mostly getting kicked.
At 4:28 a.m., he declares “Ok, I’m going to go watch TV now.” Um, no you’re not.
So he gets up to use the potty, and then starts playing with random stuff on my dresser. (Admit it, you have random stuff on your dresser too). DH at this point gets up and puts him back to his room. I have no idea how long he played in there before giving up and going back to sleep. I don’t really care.
So my fabulous DH deals with getting the girls off to school this morning so I could sleep. It is currently 9:35 a.m. and my son is still sleeping. I would be, too, except my Visiting Teachers were supposed to show up 5 minutes ago, so I had to get up, put on matching clothes, and pretend I’ve been awake for hours.