I'm a pretty good sleeper. I fall asleep fairly fast and usually get seven to eight hours of sleep. I attribute my youthful looks to my sleep habits as well as my bi-monthly skin peels and bi-annual brow lifts. Sadly, something has disturbed my peaceful slumber.
It was the middle of the night, and I woke up. It's unusual when I wake up because it means one of two things: 1) Lisa woke up to go pee or 2) I got a booty call. This night it was neither. I struggled to fall back asleep, but I kept on hearing an intermittent squeak. I attributed the squeak to us being in a new house and not knowing the sounds it makes at night. Either that or I actually did get a booty call, and my booty was growing impatient.
I decided to grab my glasses to see what time it was, but as I turned around in bed I was startled to see Andrew next to me. He scared the hell out of me! My masculine survival instincts almost kicked in because I was about to throw Lisa in front of me for protection.
I told Andrew that he needed to stay in his bed and guided him back to his room. He quickly went back to sleep, but not me! Every little squeak and creek I heard made me turn around to see if Andrew was at the doorway. It's amazing how a little three year old could create so much anxiety in me. It's also amazing that I was once beat up by a nine year old girl.
Over the past week, Andrew has occasionally crept into our bedroom whining for attention and comfort. We don't want this to become a habit with Andrew, so we just silently guide him back to bed and leave him alone even if he continues to whine and cry. I figure if the worst thing he's going to say at night is "Mommmmmy" or "Daddddddy", then we should be okay until this phase ends. I'm just glad that he's not saying anything else like "Redrum" or "Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world."
That would really cut down on my sleep...
No comments:
Post a Comment