In a not-so-amusing turn of events, my “good sleeping” child has been showing me his butt at roughly 2 hour intervals for the past 5-6 nights. I have not had more sleep than that at a stretch in that long. I think I might die.
The kid is a beast. He wants nothing more than to go, constantly. Even in his sleep, his legs are kicking and his arms are reaching for whatever it is he thinks he wants. I’m reminded of the sharks that never stop swimming, even in “slumber.” I should have named my son “Mack the Knife.” I have little bruises all over the tops of my legs from his kicking. Man, he’s strong. And he moves with such focus and purpose. I think he sees his sister careening around his universe and he wants nothing more than to join her. I didn’t think it was possible, but his motor skills may actually be better than hers. It’s terrifying.
My work husband once said that Will and I should have sold our genetic material to the US Olympic team. He may have been on to something. Physically, our kids are monsters (in the good sense of the word, of course).
Supposedly it’s an old wives’ tale, but it’s said that if you can feed a kid to bursting that they’ll sleep long and hard. I’ve seen that work first hand. Indeed, I was quite excited to introduce Felix to solids a couple of weeks ago. It’s been a huge flop. He hates it. I can’t get the kid to eat anything. In my bones I know that if my son would eat some solids and then nurse like crazy, he’d go back to sleeping 6+ hours at a stretch. That would mean that I, too, could sleep 6+ hours at a stretch.
I told Will that tonight I would probably go meet the kids at the speech therapist (where we have our first session), then go through McCrappy’s to get some junk food for dinner. After that, I may or may not bathe them before bed (sorry in advance if my kids are filthy tomorrow, Oui Oui). Once the children are asleep, I, too, will sleep. I don’t care if it’s 6:15. I’m going to bed. I threatened to do that last night but didn’t make it before 9:30. And it was a bad night last night. Felix acted up. The cats acted up, including somehow getting hold of Stella’s feather boa (stay tuned for neon pink cat poo/vomit) and setting off her V-Tech talking book at 4:30 AM, right after I had gotten my son back to sleep and 30 minutes before my daughter woke for the day (No, it’s not time for a F’ing rhyme, but it’s time for you to hit the trash. Seriously, that damn thing is going in the garbage TODAY.).
Sleep. I need some.