It never fails. My son has been coming into bed with me at 3:00 am since he was 2 years old- he’s now six. I’m sure it’s just habit that wakes him, and although i’ve tried everything to deter/reward him for staying in his own domain nothing seems to work and at 3 am- frankly I’m just not interested in arguing.
The funny thing about him, however, is how chipper he is when he wakes at that ungodly hour. He seems to think it’s perfectly ok to make chit chat while he clambers into bed firmly locking my head under his armpit like I’m some giant teddy bear that has no need for breathing.
The Goodbar and I always chat about it in the morning – like- what the hell was he saying last night?
It’s always a little tricky because if i wake up too much – I can’t go back to sleep so I’ve really mastered this half asleep little dance we do at night to insure that my glorious nights sleep is not interrupted. Every so often it fails… epically- ahem.
Lets see- a few nights ago he stood by the side of my bed and whispered in a voice loud enough to wake the dead:
“Mom… it’s me.” (oh? really? because I kind of expected the Munroe Dairy Milkman to be standing at my bedside at Oh Dark Hundred)
“Mom- Move over, I’m getting in”
I’m pretty sure I whimper or moan or something because I’m previously sound asleep and possibly even dreaming- he’s woken me from a few that I’d really been enjoying.
“Mom- do you think when you get married I can be the ring boy?”
“um hmmm… sure honey (first I have to get officially divorced) but sure… go to sleep honey”.
“Ok- I wuv you mom”
me: “I wuv you too honey” ( because I’m pretty sure that’s how I talk at that hour anyway)
Then last night was a classic…..
“Mom? It’s me… push over”
As he’s getting in I feel the pressure of my bladder and so I struggle over him to get up to go to the bathroom.
“Can I come with you mom?- I have to go too”
me: “whimper mumble- uh huh”
After I pee I make a stumble line toward the bed again figuring he found his way there once – he can find it again…
“MOM!” he whispers in an I just saw and intruder whisper looking over his shoulder as he stands peeing in the toilet and my heart skips a beat.
“YOU DIDN’T WASH YOUR HANDS MOM!….” he whispers with a fierce knowing: and then with a little more compassion:
“It’s bad for your manners Mom”.
me: “whimper” (i’d be so proud if only i did not want to choke the life out of him this very instant)
I quickly rinse and dry them and head for the bed.
We manage to get into the bed and settled with my head tucked peacefully into his pit and thankfully I can feel myself juuuuust on the verge of getting back into a sleep when i can tell that the cat has found something to play with towards the end of the bed.. Shaw seems to be moving too….
me: “whimper… Shaw, are you?…”
“yeah, mom you do this thing where you move your feet a little bit and they think it’s a mouse and they go all crazy n’ stuff”
me: “whimper… “
he falls back to sleep without effort and I lay. thinking. till the sun. comes. up.
Today after school the little sh*t had the nerve to tell me:
“You’re kind of cranky mom and kind of not very nice”.