I am tired today.
Big E came into our room around 3:30 to tell me his sound machine turned off. Stupid electrical short!
Yes, he still has a sound machine and I'm reluctant to stop using it.
We can fire off bombs, host a rave, or even a barking poodle and my kids don't hear a thing.
I escort him back to his room, but not before a quick pit stop to the potty. I tuck him back in and that is the end of him. For now.
For me, it is a different story. I am not that person that can fall in and out of sleep. It takes me a good half an hour to go back to sleep if I am awoken in the middle of the night.
I finally find the sleep I desperately need.
But I hear the footsteps again. I play dead. Maybe if I don't move, he'll go back to his room and leave me to my dreams. I feel his hot breath on my face.
MOMMY! I'M SCARED IN MY ROOM!
He climbs into bed with us. He lays between his exhausted parents. I look over at the clock. 6:27.
I try to go back to sleep, but I know he is staring at me. I can feel it.
I open one eye. He smiles. Sh*t. Never make eye contact! That is rule number one.
He starts whispering. It sounds like some sort of satanic verse. This makes sense, as currently I view him as Satan.
This lasts for about 20 minutes before I ask him to either go back to bed, play in his bedroom, or go downstairs to the playroom.
He wants to go to his playroom.
He slides off the bed and heads out.
Five minutes later he returns.
I'M SCARED OF MY PLAYROOM.
Ugh. He's back in bed.
Mr. Yoy abandons us and heads out to the couch for some "restful" sleep.
I HEAR LITTLE E!
He goes running down the hall. He returns, flips on my light, and throws two sticker books on my head. I guess it is time to do stickers.
I HAVE TO PEE!
I wave my white flag. Ok, I surrender. I'm up.
I'm rethinking this whole freedom thing. I don't think there is enough caffeine on the planet that can help me overcome my exhaustion.
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