Fill In the Blanket

Our  nighttime hi-jinks continue.  I’ve come to accept that they will always continue, or at least for the next 3 years.  If one is peaceful and sleeping the way they’re supposed to, it’s a safe bet the other one will do something undesirable.  And vice versa.  On the really special nights, they both act up.  It’s great.  I’m sure I’ll look back on all this one day and laugh.  Surely.

Anyway, the usual routine is that Felix is usually bunking with me by the time dawn approaches.  That has been getting better.  He usually waits longer before joining me.  But it’s the same routine: I hear Felix on the monitor.  I go quietly try to fetch him (and whatever combination of McQueen, Mater, Donut, and his water bottle that is required for that night) without waking Stella.  I then resettle my son and his entourage as quickly as I can without hosing all of us with his water bottle. Yes.  The water bottle is a new nighttime Precious.  Then we’re cool.  After all that ridiculousness, we settle back down and sleep quite happily.

He is cuddly.  I’ll give the little stinker that.

Then Stella wakes up.  She’s usually the first.  She comes shooting down the hall like a cannonball, trailing her own entourage of Sweet Kitty, Flat Kitty, and Cousin Flat.  She does a flying leap on whatever surface I’m on – bed or couch. I guess  unbeknownst to me, the floor around my bed becomes lava in the night.  She’s invariably grumpy, as if I’m the one that just woke her up.  She then starts frantically bitching about blankets blankets blankets.  If I’m lucky – really lucky – she might go back to sleep.  But not usually.

Totally unrelated but we recently took the kids bowling. Stella loved it.

Totally unrelated but we recently took the kids bowling. Stella loved it.

This is where the most ridiculous part of the whole damn thing comes into play.  Stella demands blankets.  Felix will not let a blanket touch his bare skin.  He gets cold, sure.  But he will only tuck his feet/legs underneath a McQueen, a Donut, or some part of my body.

If I try to put  myself in the middle of my children, Felix will wake and start screaming.  This is really moot, however, as Stella causes him to scream every single morning by allowing a blanket to touch his bare flesh.

Felix thought all bowling balls were Preciouses and would then throw himself on the ground and cry when you rolled them down the lane.

Felix thought all bowling balls were Preciouses and would then throw himself on the ground and cry when you rolled them down the lane.

This is how every day begins, usually around 5:00 AM.  At least it’s not 4:00, like it used to be.

Damn.  I thought alarm clocks were demonic back in the day.  Those things have nothing on  my children.

 

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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