Category Archives: sleep

Anatomy Of A Friday Night In My Bed

Don’t worry.  This post is G-rated.  There are far too many children and animals roaming in and out of my bed for anything R-rated to take place.  And I wouldn’t write about it anyway.  A blogger has to have some boundaries, right?  So, we’ve established that there’s no sex in this post.  There are, however, some really poorly drawn pictures to illustrate the night.  They’re the kind of images you’ll want to turn away from, but like a really bad car accident or train wreck, you’ll be unable to look away.  You’ll also wonder if perhaps Dylan did the drawings.  He didn’t.  I’m a horrible artist, but I can’t be good at everything, because then you’d hate me.

Last night I fell asleep on the couch, so Mike went to bed alone.

I told you the art was bad.  That’s my bed.  That’s Mike on the left.

I crawled into bed at about 1:00 a.m.  This is where you might think something romantic took place.  Ha!  Sleep is too precious a commodity in this house these days.

That’s Mike on the left and me on the right.

At about 1:30 a.m., Dylan woke up crying from a nightmare and wouldn’t go back to sleep in his bed, so Mike brought him to our room.  This was a risky move, because Dylan isn’t typically a good bed mate.

That’s Dylan in the middle.  What is it that makes kids want to sleep horizontally?  And kick their Mamas and Daddies in the head and back all night long?

At 5:00 a.m., Dylan yelled out “I want to get up.”  I replied, “No.”  I waited all week for this glorious Saturday morning when I wouldn’t have to set the alarm for 6:00 a.m., make lunches, and chase the boys around the house to get them dressed and brush their teeth.  There was no way in hell I was getting up.  Apparently my “no” was just the right tone, because I shut the whole thing down (Akin pun intended).  Dylan fell back to sleep and resumed his horizontal assault.

At 5:30 a.m.,  Riley joined us.  At least his presence forced Dylan to succumb to the vertical.

From left to right – Mike, Dylan, Riley, me.

At 6:30 a.m., Harry joined us.

At 7:00 a.m., Dylan asked, “Is it time to wake up?”  By that time, Riley’s head was nestled painfully against my left shoulder blade, so I said, “Yes.”

You know what they say… A family who sleeps together, stays together is bruised, cranky, and exhausted all day!

p.s. Riley drew a family portrait this morning.

Yes, he’s a better artist than me.

How did you sleep last night?

Leave a comment

Filed under bad dreams, bedtime, sleep

Transform(er)ation

Parenting is about problem solving.  For instance, Dylan used to bring his lunch box home from school every day with his fruit squeezer uneaten.  It turns out the reason he wasn’t eating it was because he couldn’t open the top by himself.  Once I figured it out, I popped the cap and resealed it loosely each morning before putting it in his lunch box.  Problem solved.  Now when his fruit squeezer comes home uneaten, it’s merely a philosophical statement about his disapproval of fruit’s existence.  Food therapy here we come!

Here’s another one – a real doozy.  There was a time when I savored (note the past tense) the nights when Riley’s crept into my bed in the middle of the night. Oh how I relished in the joy of sleeping with my squishy baby!  Then, every now and then turned into every night.  Then, he refused to sleep in his bed at all.  He had to start and finish the night in our bed.  Then, he took a liking to sleeping horizontally across the bed.  Then, he peed in the bed.  Then, I turned into a Crazy Mama.  I lost the only thing in the world that was sacred to me  – my bed.  (I lost the bathroom a long time ago.)

Riley desperately needs a bedtime transformation, and I desperately want to brush and floss my teeth, watch “The Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell,” read my book, and play one last round of Words with Friends BY MYSELF!

Enter Shopaholic Mama and Master-Of-Reading-Ikea-Directions-And-Building-Ikea-Furtniture Daddy and behold…

The fun, exciting, cool, amazing, big-boy bunk bed!

I’ve wanted to get a bunk bed for the boys for a while.  They share a room, it’s a great space saver, and, according to Dylan, “It’s so awesome!”  While Mike bought he bed, I took the boys to Target to buy Transformer sheets.  They live and breathe Bumblebee and Optimus Prime these days, and Riley pinky promised he’d sleep in his bed if I bought him Transformer sheets…and an “Avengers” blanket…and a “Batman” blanket…and two Optimus Prime pillows.  (I’m such a sucker.)  Dylan, who always sleeps in his bed, made out like a bandit on that shopping spree.

Problem solved, right?  Not so fast.  It took four long, exhausting, white flag waving, pinky promise breaking, Pino Grigio drinking nights, but last night Riley finally slept in his bed.  All night.  Start to finish.  In. His. Bed!

Look at that beautiful blue star!  (He also scored major bonus points for waking up dry.)

Big props to Mike who was home from work last night in time to experience the hell that is bedtime in our house.  He and his guitar can take full credit for taming the beast.

Note to self:  Learn to play guitar.

Transformation complete?  Hardly.  I have no idea what will happen tonight, but right now I’m being where I am and enjoying the satisfaction of solving another problem no matter how brief the victory lasts.  I’m off to Toys R Us now to finish school supply shopping and to buy Riley’s reward, which, of course, will be a Transformer.  He requested a green one.  Wish me luck!

Co-sleeping Mamas (and Daddies): How do you cope with the lack of privacy?

Leave a comment

Filed under bedtime, parenting, Shopaholic Mama, shopping, sleep, toys

A Pretty Good Tradeoff

I have a confession to make.  Another one.  A while back, I wrote about how I secretly enjoy bringing Riley into my bed after his 4:00 a.m. nightmares about stickers and cookies and other frightening things [insert sarcasm].  In that post, I also wrote about how Dylan never comes in my bed, but I’d jump at the chance to do it now that I realize how quickly he’s growing up.

Well, I take it back.  Dylan is a horrible bed mate.  He doesn’t revel in the wonder and mystery of Mommy and Daddy’s king-sized bed like his younger brother, he doesn’t appreciate the mountain of soft pillows and fuzzy blankets, and he doesn’t cherish the chance to curl up safely next to the belly in which he once grew.

This morning, he also didn’t understand how utterly and completely exhausted he was (and I was) after our zoo adventure yesterday.  At 5:30 a.m. (which still feels like 4:30 a.m., thank you very much), I gave Dylan the choice to (a) play in his bed or (b) come with me to mine.  Going to the family room to watch the Power Rangers was not an option.

Staying in his bed would have been the smart decision.  Currently in his bed are: 50 or so squinkies, a dozen books, a lamp, a portable DVD player with Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel (don’t get judgy…the DVD player is only allowed on non-school nights) and a cup of water.  If he had a few snacks, he could probably survive a week there.

He chose (b).  I knew there would be little sleep for me no matter what he chose, but I naively welcomed the chance to snuggle with my little boy.  Fast forward forty-five minutes and we were in the family room watching Power Rangers with Riley, who also woke up too early.  Rewind a bit and this was the scene in my bed:

Dylan (in an astonishingly loud whisper as only a five-year-old kid can do): “Mommy, is it time to watch the Power Rangers?”

Me (in a whisper yell as only a Tired Mama can do): “No.”

Dylan:  “Mommy, look outside. It’s morning time.”

Me:  “No, that’s the glow of the moon.  Close your eyes. You need to sleep a little bit longer.”

Dylan:  “Is two minutes a little bit longer?”

Me:  “No.”

Dylan:  “Mommy, is it time yet?”

(Cue Riley’s crying.)

Me:  “Yes, it’s time.”

The truth is, unlike Riley, Dylan is no fun at all to bring into my bed in the wee hours of the morning.  He does, however, give great hugs on demand, you can (almost) always trust his pinky promises, and his dance moves are fierce.  That’s a pretty good tradeoff.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under bad dreams, sleep, Tired Mama