Thursday, December 4, 2008

The Sleep Chronicles, chapter 156

Chapters 1-155 of The Sleep Chronicles have unfortunately been lost. I say unfortunately because they were freakin' entertaining. Actually, chapter 155 can be found here and chapter 154 can be found here.

Night melted into morning sometime around 4 AM, which probably doesn't make sense... but hello, you're reading my blog here. Let's not get all nit-picky.
ANYHOW.
Four. AM. And Jaxon's sweet voice pierces the cold morning air.

"Mom-mmmeeeeee"

If you have children and can read phonetically, you know that this is the yell of doom, and by doom, I mean you're not getting any more sleep today.
So I drag my carcass corpse out of bed and (I'm sorry... I don't like the word carcass... the last three letters... so inappropriate) check on my darling, darling son--who is, also inappropriately, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Did I mention its 4 AM? And cold?

Let's address this cold for a moment. It has officially dropped into the 40's at night (and those of you that don't live in Arizona and are all tough, hush), and it's COLD, and my husband refuses to turn on the heat. Instead, we resort to dressing Jaxon in footie pajamas (which, if I had the time, I would rant about how adorable these footie pajamas are on a still-diapered two-year-old--imagine, his diaper bum is the biggest lump in these sausage casing-like pajamas, so cute) and wearing socks and huddling under blankets. Husband shall be henceforth known as "the miser".


Sorry, I had to read back to figure out where I was in the story because this is a Heather story and we get lost in details...
...so I bring the kid back to my bed which is such a bad idea but I'm absolutely dying of exhaustion at this point in my life and please kid don't you want to sleep in a little bit more?

How does my son thank me for my hospitality? He rolls over on my head and tries to suffocate me for the thought, and if that weren't enough--I can't even sufficiently worry about my own safety or my son's apparently homicidal tendencies because while he's in the process of suffocating me with his adorable footie pajamas, he's also precariously dangling his two-year-old body over the edge of the bed. In retrospect, the three-foot drop probably wouldn't have done anything to him and I should have let the ungrateful little wretch fall. After an hour of similar entertainment, I suggest to the miser that perhaps our little bundle of joy is tired again, and would like to return to his own room, so off the miser and the grouch go... and I almost nod off in the 20 seconds of peace that follow.

"Hungry! Hungry!" and I inappropriately think "Hippos" at this point. There's an awful lot of inappropriateness going on in this house this morning.

And we're all up and running at a few minutes' after 5, our breath clouding the morning air until I declare that the oven hasn't been cleaned in ages, and it must be done. NOW. Ah, warmth, sweet warmth. My house smells of burnt toast, but the miser doesn't suspect a thing. Ovens. Because Arizonans don't have fireplaces.

Meanwhile, the miser sets Jaxon up in his chair with a cup of chocolate milk, then a nutri-grain bar, banana and cereal--which I probably don't have to point out, is such a rookie mistake that it isn't even funny. And here I am, two-and-a-half hours later, staring at that same nutri-grain bar, banana and cereal that remain untouched--a testament to my son's wasteful nature. I believe he's also a corporate lobbyist for big oil and is pulling for global warming. The chocolate milk is long-gone.

I got an early start on my entry, and after Jaxon finished his breakfast of nutritious sugar milk, he invoked the right to "snuggle buggle", that is, um... Jaxonspeak for snuggling, and got blissfully quiet for the first time since 4. When I finally thought to look down a few minutes later, I realized...

that he was asleep.

I unceremoniously dumped him on the couch and went in search of a pillow and blanket, harvested without much difficulty from Jaxon's land of no return, aka the crib. I returned and made a camp bed on the couch, deposited one (1) two-year-old, flipped on the tube to "Jack's Big Music Show", and took the picture below to share with the miser (who snuck away to head to the office soon after breakfast) before settling back in for some work. Just when I thought Jaxon had conked out again, the remote slid from the arm of the couch and landed near his head. That's when I hear...

"Stoopid wee-mote."

Mental Health: Quickly slipping into hysteria

4 comments:

Elmo's World said...

I love your blogs, they bring back the days of raising my own young uns.... Dang glad those days are behind me, but I find it very entertaining that my daughters, enjoy the same joys I did. Wait til you have twins... there... I did it, I jinxed you, Heather Rose, Kaka Nose. Love ya, Mom

Jennifer said...

Haha... This one was cute!! I must say I enjoyed it emmensly!! I don't think that's how you spell it but hey it works!! Love ya!!

-JBB

Trezise Momma said...

Ahhhh, it is good to know that there are other moms out there who would like to just see what a drop from the bed would do to a little minion when he/she is not sleeping when he/she should be sleeping. Not because I am glad that you aren't sleeping, but because it is comforting to know that I am not the only mother with these naughty thoughts about my cubbies.

The Thomson Family said...

It is so funny to me how mind sets can change so quickly for a parent-
from "Oh my gosh kid! Flippin' fetching'- what the-?!"
to
"AwWwWwW... you are kinda cute."
My favorite is when caleb wakes up at 3:00 and doesn't go back to sleep until 5:00... the whole time he wants to play and he is giggling and laughing and pulling on my face. GOOD MORNING, indeed!