My Drooping Eyelids: A Special Shout Out
I don't think a direct infusion of caffeine into my bloodstream could help me today.
I went to bed last night following Conan's monologue. I freaking love that guy. I was snooze city for about half the evening. Then all hell broke loose. Below is a recap of my night.
I detect the pitter patter of Big E. I play dead as his hot breath blasts my face. Mr. Yoy calls Big E over to his side of the bed and pulls him in. I realize I have to use the bathroom, but this conflicts with my play dead strategy, so I hold it. This is much harder now that my bladder has been pulverized by two pregnancies.
Big E announces he has to use the bathroom. Mr. Yoy sets him free and I take the opportunity to use the bathroom as well.
Like a mommy seeking missile, Big E shuffles into my bathroom and finds me, half asleep on the toilet.
He is way too cheerful for the middle of the night. This does not bode well for me.
He begins jumping up and down. I inquire as to why he is leaping around.
BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO, SO MUCH!
Yes, I realize how endearing this is. Now, in the afternoon. But in my semi-conscious state in the middle of the night I just grumbled something back to him.
I grab his hand and take him back to bed where I know I will be sentenced to some time lying with him until he falls back asleep.
Upon reaching Big E's bed, I realize the whole area where I will be resting is damp from a leaky sippy cup. (Not urine, as I smelled it)
DAMN YOU, SIPPY CUP!
I'm too tired to really care. I tuck Big E in and lay next to him.
Over the next 75 minutes, Big E tosses and turns, complaining about his inability to get comfortable. At some point he head butts the sh*t out of me. I see stars, in the darkness. He cries for hurting me.
I did not sleep a wink. Finally, I conceded. I asked him if he wanted to turn the light on and play.
IS IT DAYTIME?
Apparently for him it was. I switched on his light, told him to be quiet, and headed back to my bed.
I intermittently sleep for periods of about 8 minutes at a time. Big E was back in our bedroom no fewer than six times. Reporting such alarming things as:
I'M HAVING SOME TROUBLE WITH MY MICKEY MOUSE STICKERBOOK.
MY DRILL NEEDS BATTERIES.
I stumble downstairs to grab Big E some snacks. I pretty much throw them at him and run back to bed.
I WANT TO GO DOWNSTAIRS!
Mr. Yoy gets up and takes him downstairs. I ask Mr. Yoy to deactivate our alarm as we have a very sensitive glass breaking sensor in their playroom and one dropped toy could set it off. Just because we are up, doesn't mean our whole 'hood has to be up. (Neighbors, you are welcome)
Big E returns to our bedroom to announce his exhaustion.
REALLY? NO SH*T!
I get up and take Big E to his bed. He asks me to stay with him. We finally both fall asleep. I hear Mr. Yoy up and walking around. Apparently, so does Big E.
Big E lets loose his greatest rooster impression.
Directly in my ear. I roll over and look at his smiling face. This kid is legit the devil.
I roll out of toddler bed hell and head back to my bed. I'm a morning person, in general, but this morning I am one nasty b*tch. Even Mr. Yoy was a little scared of me.
I got back in bed. I ran the numbers in my head. I had 5.5 hours of sleep overnight. I was ruined.
It was then that Mr. Yoy had one of his many genius moments. He made our bed. With me in it. And covered any evidence of my body with pillows and a sheet.
My kids may have been up and running around, but they couldn't find me. So I logged another 40 minutes of shuteye. Not ideal, but at least enough so that I wasn't a zombie.
In the meantime, I'm surviving on Coke Zeros and the knowledge that bedtime will begin in four short hours.
I WILL SURVIVE! Even if my eyelids have permanently settled at half-mast.