Go Back to Sleep!

Happy Friyay, friends!

My house is a wreck, but my wine is poured, so I’m sitting my ass down for some blogging. Get excited!

Today I thought I’d do a play-by-play of sorts of my morning. In retrospect (and I stress, in retrospect), it was a humorous morning. So I hope you’ll find it amusing too.

As context, my mom watched the rugrats last night so that my husband and I could attend a work event. I will not be recounting my boring work event here… trust me, it is not worth recounting. My mom then slept over.

Now, the first thing I have learned is this: NEVER TELL YOUR CHILDREN THAT THEIR GRAMMY IS SLEEPING OVER. Why, you ask? Simply put: your elephant-brained child will wake up at the ass crack of dawn knowing that Grammy is still in the house, so she’ll want to play.

I almost never go to bed early. Really, I should. But I’m sure a lot of us are in the same boat. I like my free time too much to go to sleep early too often. I work, blog, draw, watch the boob tube, read a book, paint my nails, whatever. As a general rule, staying up too late backfires every single f**cking time. I’ll learn eventually. No, I won’t.

I also should have known something was up when I woke up in complete darkness and looked at the clock, which read 5:30 a.m. For all of you people who voluntarily wake up at this hour, I salute you. Remember in high school and college when you’d wake up at ungodly hours and realize you had one, two, or even three more hours to sleep? Yeah, that doesn’t really happen when you’re a parent. At least not to me. When my internal clock wakes me up at 5:30 a.m., I’m almost never going back to sleep. Why? Well, take today as an example of what happens every single time my internal clock wakes me up. My child wakes up within 30 seconds of me. What in the actual f**k is this phenomenon?! Does this happen to other people? Is this like some from-the-womb mommy/baby connection thing that I’m just not aware of?

Cue my usual alarm clock: small child rolling out of bed, feet pitter-pattering on the floor, light switch on, door open, and my favorite “MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYY!” Much to my husband’s chagrin, the morning chant is almost never “DADDY! DADDY! DADDYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!” When it is, my other child inevitably wakes up simultaneously.

I’ve used my memory to the best of my ability to recreate for you all (and for me, as I look back on this time of my life) the ridiculous s**t my kid said in the hour I attempted (emphasis for effect) to get her to go back to sleep. As I’m sure you can all guess, she did not fall back asleep, and has now been soundly sleeping since 6:45 p.m.

[Scene: Kid’s bedroom. Mom enters stage right through door. Kid is at window with the shades pulled up, looking particularly disappointed]

Kid: Mommy, there is no snow.

Mom: No, no snow.

Kid: Is Grammy still here? I need to help her with the laundry.

Mom: Yes, Grammy is still here. But she is sleeping. You should be sleeping too.

Kid: Why? It is morning.

Mom: No, it is still sleepy time. Everyone else is sleeping.

Kid: But I don’t want to sleep.

Mom: Get back in bed.

[Kid grabs book off of bookshelf]

Mom: No. Not time to read. Time to sleep.


Mom: Bed. Now. Sleep.

[Kid gets in full size bed and leaves no space for mom]

Mom: Move over.

[Kid scooches, slightly. Mom squeezes onto bed, barely]

Kid: Will you sing to me?

Mom: Sure. Close your eyes.

[Kid closes eyes. Mom has false sense of hope that this will result in more sleep.]

Kid: Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! Alligatooooor!

Mom: Shhh. Close your eyes.

Kid: Ribbit! Ribbit! Ribbit! Froooooog!

Mom: Relax, please.

Kid: Hop! Hop! Hop! Bunnyyyyy rabbiiiiit!

Mom: Settle down. Why don’t you snuggle with me?

Kid: No thanks.

Mom: Okay then. Put your head on your pillow and I’ll rub your back.

Kid: Mommy, what kind of pajamas are you wearing?

Mom: Sweat pants.

Kid: Are they new ones?

Mom: No.

Kid: What color are they?

Mom: Grey.

Kid: Can I see?

Mom: No, lay down.

Kid: Can we go downstairs and play with Grammy?

Mom: No, Grammy is sleeping.

Kid: Can we play with daddy?

Mom: No, Daddy is sleeping.

Kid: Can you tickle me?

Mom: No, it is still sleepy time.

Kid: But I’m not sleepy! [rubs eyes]

Mom: Ok, then I will sleep and you can lay with me.

[Kid kicks headboard, knees mom’s stomach, pulls mom’s eyelids open]

Kid: Mommyyyyyyyyyy! Wake uuuuuuuuuuuuup!

Mom: I give up. Time for coffee.

Kid: Yay! We can fold the laundry!


Obviously there are some gems that I’ve forgotten at this point, as this nonsense went on and on (and on) for an hour before I waved my white flag. But I’ll settle for what my brain has managed to retain, which is enough for me to chuckle, only in retrospect.

I suppose this is payback for all of the mornings I crawled into my mom’s bed and woke her up from a deep sleep, just because I could. Kids are assholes, really. But the cutest little assholes.

And for the record, she did not help fold any of the laundry.


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