Sleep Is For The Weak

I don't remember the last time I actually had a full night of uninterrupted sleep, but the chaos that ensued last night is one for the record books. The festivities started a little before midnight and ended at 5 am. Between each event, I had just enough time to drift back to sleep before something else woke me up. It was torturous.

Jake was the first to wake me up around midnight. His diaper had leaked, so I changed his diaper, pajamas and sheets. I got him settled again and then returned to my bed.

Shortly thereafter, I awoke to Sarah's hysterical cries. She was screaming, "I got a booger!" This is what she says when her nose is stuffy. Lovely, isn't it? I took care of the offending nasal obstruction and returned to bed.

The next time I woke up, it was because Jake was coughing. He has asthma and the cough sounded terrible. He was still asleep, so I set up his nebulizer machine in his bedroom. I hoped he would sleep through the breathing treatment, but no such luck. As soon as the medicine started to work, he woke up, ready to play. I got him settled down again and went back to bed.

The next thing I knew, Jake was standing beside me saying he wanted music. He knows how to use his CD player without my assistance. What he wanted was company and I was in no mood to play. I sent him back to bed.

At 5 am I was jolted out of sleep once more by the telephone ringing. My first thought was that someone had died. Fortunately, that was not the case. However, someone is going to. It was a robo-call from the school announcing a 2 hour delay due to weather.

6 am came far too quickly and I woke up to a quiet house. The children were still asleep, hungover from a long night of terrorizing me. My husband, sensing an opportunity, snuggled in and sweetly asked, "How did you sleep?".

While I was getting the ice packs for Jeff's eye and my fist, I indulged myself in a little daydream. I often dream about staying in a hotel room all by myself. Normal people may fantasize about other things going on in a hotel room, but not me. My little dream involves a nice hotel, one that finds SpongeBob SquarePants so offensive that they do not allow it to be broadcast on their televisions. In fact, they ban all cartoons. I would order room service, an outrageously fattening meal with a carafe of extra gluten and casein on the side. I would then pass out in an over-stuffed stupor all alone in a giant bed and sleep for 12 hours straight. Someday, I will make that happen.

*No husbands were harmed in the making of this blog post.*