I was so happy last Sunday night to go to bed at 8:45 PM.
Like many adults, sleep is a huge luxury to me that’s often in short supply.
I thought there would be an end in sight to my sleepless nights once the kids exited the toddler stage, but my lack of rest continues to haunt me.
Between our barky semi-continent toy poodle, my own insomnia, rare hospital phone calls and the occasional kid nightmare, I still find myself getting up at least once per night, often with difficulty returning to sleep.
Which is precisely why the early turn-in last Sunday felt so darn decadent.
At 12:38 AM, I felt a tug on my pajama sleeve.
MGM (7) was standing next to the bed, smiling in triumph.
(Sidenote: I am waaaay past the point where waking to someone staring at me next to my bed is alarming. It’s like two kid-sized eyeballs serve as a silent alarm. If actual intruders break in, I’m dead meat).
MGM: “Mom! Mom! Get this! I put on my whole school uniform under my pajamas. Even my underpants! Now I just have to take them off and I’m ready for school!”
While part of me admires the cleverness of his plan, once I came to, I blearily asked if he’d been asleep at all yet.
Of course not.
He was planning to stay up all night and even set his alarm for 1 AM, when he scheduled his breakfast.
I convinced him that we would rest together in the guest room, and he was out cold by 12:55 AM, with a promise that I would wake him up at 1 for a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.
Whoops. I guess I forgot.
On my end, I tossed and turned until about 3:30 AM, when I tried to crawl back into my own spot, only to discover that Trixie (5) beat me to it.
And so went another night of Musical Beds at Fancy Pants Ranch.
The next morning, waking MGM up was worse than the usual bear poking.
I apologized in advance at the school when I dropped him off on Monday.