Sleepus Interruptus

Peyton on a more peaceful night than this.

It's 1:45 in the morning and I'm certain my last sane moment was around 11:30 when I turned off the t.v. and went to bed. At 12:30 I was startled awake by Libby's cries and the sound of her little feet on the hard floor. And by little feet, I don't mean little sound. This kid runs like and elephant. Seriously. I'm trying to teach her to run on her toes. I think she could wake her sister from a sound sleep if she were running out in the driveway. Scratch that. Herd of elephants. Or maybe it only feels that way after one hour of sleep.

Anyway, she needed to go potty, and then apparently needed to cry some more. I'm sure I've never seen my child this grumpy. When I tried to put her pajama pants back on she swatted at me as though I was trying to light her hair on fire. We snuggled in the rocker for about a minute before she grabbed my hand by the thumb and threw it at me. Jeez. Just trying to..... I don't know. What's the goal here? Sleep, right? I felt a little wounded at this point. I crossed my arms across my chest and Libby did the same. As we sat side by side I imagined what our lives will be like in ten years if we should ever all be awake in the middle of the night. This is what I do. When things get bad I imagine my babies as teenagers. That seems worse, but takes the edge off of the agony of the moment. But the truth is, I'd like NOT to have little teenage monsters, and should quit saying such things aloud or I'm sure that I'll will them to happen. Anyway, this family shouldn't be awake in the middle of the night. We gave that up awhile ago, and it's really better for all if we don't revisit it. Libby stopped crying and even let me tuck her into her bed with the promise that I'd be back to check on her.

I'm sure I was asleep before I actually made it back to my bed. One hour later.... More screaming. Louder crying. Here come the elephants.

She said to me, "I peed a little in my underwear." I tip-toed stealth like into her room and got a clean pair. As she washed her hands and we got her in clean jammies she'd say things like, "Hey Mom?.....Hi. Hi Mom. Hi." She seemed to need reassurance. I hugged, comforted and she seemed to be ready, once again, to climb into bed. I stopped her outside her room and explained that we'd only be going in there with the silent precision of The Navy Seals and that under no circumstance would there be a need for crying or talking aloud. She assured me she understood.

(I bet you can make a prediction here.)

I tucked her in, and as I did she gave me instructions in the same volume that she'd likely use........say.......... on the playground. Peyton responded by standing, rubbing her eyes and looking at me. Here's the kicker: Libby looks at Peyton, then looks at me and says, "Hey Mom? You woke up Peytie."

(Mama takes a deep breath and counts to ten)

So, with a little music, more rocking, and more hugs and kisses they were both back in bed. Right now, everyone appears to be sleeping. Here's hoping for longer than an hour this time.