Sleeping In

Feel my pain... I stayed up waaaay too late last night, squeaking in some all-too infrequent time with the oldest two boys. We watched crime mysteries together till midnight. I had a great time.

Yeah. That came back to bite me in the hiney.  I only did it cuz there is no school today. The clouds this morning were dark and thick. The whole house was silent. Until...

A little voice piping through the monitor at 6:55 a.m. "Sum buddy.... I haffa go potteeeee."

I stumble in the dark to her room.

Little voice pipes up in the darkness, "Mommy? Why sum buddy leaf my shade metted up like dat?"

Her shade was askew. A teeeny tiiiiny shard of light, clouded and foggy light at that, was peeking through. Ugh. Really?

"Come on, Li'l E. Let's get to the potty. Then you can snuggle in bed with Mommy for a while."

(Until it actually becomes, you know, morning. With light and all?)

Seating her precious little hiney on the potty, she starts chattering. Really. CHATT.ER.ING. I don't even know what she said. I just know there was a lot of it. A.LOT.

I stumbled my way through assisting her, with little to nothing coming to my lips by way of conversation. Kind of the "if I don't respond, maybe she'll stop?" mentality. It never works. But I keep trying.

I hustle her precious little hiney into the big bed, and get her settled with her puppy and The Boss's pillow. She's quiet. I settle myself in, close my eyes.

And then? She's not quiet any more.

Nor is she still. As in, not one moment of her waking hours is that little body ever motionless. EH.VER.

For the next 45 minutes, she beats a rhythm on the mattress, in time with the nonsense song she's singing in her head. Only she's not. Singing in her head that is. She's whispering it. Over and over.

This is where her unilateral hearing loss really cramps my style.

Heh. She has NO idea that her whisper at 6:59 a.m. 

is like a roaring train whistle through my brain.

I nudge her and say, "Shhhhh."

She says, oh so sweetly, "Okay Mommy. I will."

The cycle repeats every few minutes. The only variation is that once in a while, the puppy whispers the song. Or the puppy's ears beat the rhythm. Or so she informs me seriously, when I nudge her and say, "Shhhhhh."


Thank goodness, LadyBug is an early riser. No matter how late she goes to bed, she's up by 7 or 7:30 a.m.

At 7:50 a.m., LadyBug rescued me. She and Li'l E headed off for a breakfast date. I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head.

At 7:59, I got up. This darned episode was turning itself into a blog post in my head.

I hate it when that happens.