Sunday, February 24, 2008

So . . . very . . . tired

We are a sleepy bunch in our household. I keep reassuring myself that sometime between now and Max's high school graduation (Class of 2025!!), he will sleep through the night.

When Max started teething, he got up so often at night, that we said "good parenting be damned" and moved him right into bed with us. At present his crib is serving as a laundry folding station. Now Matt and I are trying to figure the best way to get Max back out of our bed. Our prolonged sleeplessness has resulted in virtual zombification.

Not only are we painfully aware of every sneeze, gurgle, and kick, Max wakes up in the middle of the night and early morning and delights in messing with us. He has awakened Matt more than once with the old slap and chuckle, which is consistently comprised of the following three elements:

1. A single SMACK! square on the face
2. Parental response,"What the . . . ???"
3. Giggling

As for me, I am still dealing with the trauma of awakening to find my nose being probed and explored by tiny-nostril-diameter-fingers. Most recently I woke up at 5:30 a.m. when Max was trying to cram his pacifier into my mouth.

My point is we need to figure out a better method, because every creature in this house is pooped.

Even Mae can no longer deal the prospect of facing another early morning without her hefty dose of caffeine.

(That's a grande, double shot, bassetchino)


Deirdre said...

bassettchino -- haha!

My friend had her boy in bed with her until he was five. The only way they got him out was to have another kid. Faced with the prospect of even less sleep, they just put him in his bed and dealt with the complaining. It lasted about two weeks.

Needless to say, the baby was in it's crib from day one. LOL

Reluctant Kerry said...

Five years? Sweet Merciful Crap!

That ought to motivate us to get Max back to his own crib

. . . though the thought of holding on for a few years, just long enough for Max be able to read bedtime stories to us is somewhat inviting. Hell by five, he could get up and get ME a glass of water . . .