Thursday, May 17, 2012

Kid? Or Kitty?

Zoen's coming off of a week of being sick with various things and as a result, he's become "sick-spoiled."  You know, when you break any pretense of trying to stick with routine and just do whatever the heck works to make the kid feel well enough to sleep.

So, there were several evenings where he slumped in our lap to watch TV at 10:30pm so we could monitor whether his fever would break. Then in the wee hours of the night, he'd wake up and we'd repeat the process over and over.

So, last night before bed, he was still running a considerable fever so, right before I put him to bed, I gave him some motrin to attempt to stave off the inevitable night waking.

All went well until a bit before 1am when he woke up. For the first time in days, he woke up fever free. So, I nursed him and attempted to put him back in his bed, thinking, "Woot! He's starting to feel better! More sleep for us all!"

Hah. Hahahaha.

Apparently, Z was a fan of his nightly Food Network viewings and wasn't about to go down without a fight. First? Tears. And since he was still rather congested, I tried rocking him, bouncing him, and doing gymnastics to hopefully lull him back down.

I could almost feel his body trying to will me into the living room. If he could summon objects with his mind, he'd have that remote in his hands, no doubt.

He was MAD.

But, considering how I'd like to sleep halfway decently at night again, preferably before he turns twelve, I wasn't giving in. Shaun and I alternated between patting him/holding him and trying to stuff our heads under a pillow so we couldn't hear the other person's unsuccessful efforts in getting him to sleep.

Yeah, no one was getting much shut eye except for the three big kids who apparently could sleep through an earthquake happening during a hurricane.

(Small blessings, yes).

After about 2 hours, Shaun asked if I thought Z would fall asleep next to me. At this point, my brain had disintegrated into mush, so he could have suggested putting Z to bed in the bathtub and I'd probably have tried.

I pulled Z into bed between us. Initially, he was again, MAD.

But he warmed up to the idea of being next to me and snuggled his head on my belly. Then he flipped to my leg. Then he sat up and crashed face first on the mattress next to me. Then he headbutted me in the knee. It was like trying to sleep with a possessed pancake.

The kid's eyes were closed for most of this.

After a bit, the talking began. He chattered and chattered and sang. Shaun gave a halfhearted, "SHHHHHHH" and I swear Zoen laughed at him.

I was so tired that my eyes wouldn't stay open despite being paranoid that the kid was going to catapult himself off of the bed. I tried to keep a hand around his ankle to squelch any daredevil moves he would try to attempt.

I felt him lean against my chest and he got very still. I figured he finally crashed and opened my eyes to check.

He was inches from my face, eyes wide open, STARING at me like some sort of crazy person. When my eyes opened, his got wide and he stuck his finger in my nostril and giggled.

So much for sleep. I closed my eyes again. Z wrapped his body around my head like a cat.

And remarkably, he stilled yet again. I would have left him to sleep there, except I couldn't breathe. So I peeled him off of my face and tried settling him next to me.

He seemed ok with the relocation. So, once again, I closed my eyes.

You know how you get that weird spidey sense thing when a projectile is about to land on your face? Maybe it's the wind, or something. Either way, my eyes flew open in time to see my youngest child's head about to make excellent contact with my teeth. Like a ninja, I threw my hands up and caught his head.

And he bit me.

And laughed.

At 3:15am.

I started laughing too. You know that hysterical laughter that you can't stop no matter how hard you try? Yeah, that. Of course, Z thought this was wildly amusing and started chortling too. And honking my nose.

And with tears of laughter streaming down my face, I plucked him out of the bed, grabbed his blanket, and rocked him back to sleep in about 3 minutes.

He is VERY lucky that he's cute.

OK, that's not the cutest picture I have, but that certainly is the best personality shot I have.

Silly Baby.


  1. Those are the nights where you just wish you worked overnights so someone else had to deal with it! Abby has always been a rotten sleeper, though it has gotten better over the last few months or so.

  2. You make cute babies, woman.


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