Sleepless

Ben woke up first. I picked him up out of his bassinet and put him in bed next to me--I've never been one to actually get up to feed my nursing babies at night. I was a little annoyed to realize that it had only been two hours since I put him to bed...so much for sleeping through the night, eh? Oh, well. I went back to sleep while he was eating.

I woke up to screaming. Always rather disconcerting in those sleepy stages when you're awake enough to know something's going on but not awake enough for your brain to process what it is. Impressive, too, when I realized that it was only about four minutes later than when I had last looked at the clock with Ben and I was already that much asleep.

Megan was the screamer. She was sitting on the floor next to her bedroom door in utter despair--she doesn't know how to work the doorknob yet. I picked her up, sat on the edge of her bed, and just held her for a minute until she stopped crying. Then Jane woke up. Go figure. Screaming doesn't phase her a bit, but me walking into the room is like an alarm clock went off.

Jane said she needed a drink. Megan said, "Me too." Now, I am generally opposed to out-of-room venturing during the night. Too disruptive to the back-to-sleep endeavor. I put Megan down so I could get a drink and bring it back to them but before I knew it, they had both beat me out the door and into the kitchen.

Ok, fine. Get a drink and go back to bed before you wake up Dad and slash or the baby.

Megan sat on her bed content just long enough for me to get Jane tucked back in--"I need you to fix my blankets, Mom"--and find her baby, Honey, which was recovered only by my shuffling in small circles around the bed until my feet ran into said baby doll. I'm sure that would be quite entertaining to watch in daylight, bathrobe and all.

My attention was then commandeered back to Megan's bed. She sat on my lap for a while, refusing to even think about laying down. I told her she needed to go back to sleep, I offered any number of choice companions--her care bear, her pig, her doggie, her putt-putt fish, her baby Ronda. (Yes, Ronda. Thank you, Jane.) She would have none of it. I'm certain she fully intended to spend the rest of the night on my lap.

I nodded off a few times and just about dropped her on the floor once because my arms relaxed a little too much. I finally said, "Megan, I need you to lay on your pillow so Mommy can go back to bed. I'm tired." Her response? "Oh. Okay." And she laid right down, no problem.

Huh. I guess sometimes you just need a reason.

I shuffled back to my own bed, just to have my husband kindly remind me that I needed to sign my timecard or they wouldn't pay me for these overtime hours.

I laid back down and got comfortable, wondering who I could trick into counting middle-of-the-night parenting as overtime and pay me. How sweet would that be. That thought slowly switched to considering the wisdom that is my no out of room venturing policy, as my return to sleep endeavor had been officially thwarted. Something about interacting with every single member of my family between 12:30 and 1:00 in the morning makes it hard to go back to sleep.