How's This for an Alarm Clock

Hello Blogger my old friend,

I've come to write for you again.

Because a notion softly creeping,

Came inside while I was (not) sleeping.

And the children that are sucking all my time

Still do whine...

And drown out sounds of silence.

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It's 5:15am. My heart is pounding. I have just averted disaster, and I haven't even had a cup of coffee yet.

A few short moments ago, I was sleeping like a baby, a baby who shares her bed with too many other babies and is forced to make due with a small sliver of space so close to the edge of the bed the right side of her body actually gets a work out while sleeping, such is the effort to prevent falling onto the cold, hard-wood floor.

So it wasn't that restful to begin with, but at this point in my parenting, I take any sleep that knocks on my door with a "yes please and thank you for coming" and I don't complain. I sleep.

I came slightly awake when I heard another child come into the room. Two were already sprawled behind me on the bed, peacefully placing elbows and feet into awkward positions for me and their dad, and before opening my eyes, I contemplated how I was going to fit this one in as well. I opened an eye, expecting to see another daughter. Instead, without lifting my head, I had a level view of my son's waist.

His thumbs were hooked around his camo pajama bottoms. His legs were in "the stance." He was getting ready to relieve himself. His waistband was inches from my face.

This one has a short but colorful history of peeing in interesting places while he is half asleep. In a flash, I realized that I was this close to being his next interesting place, as it was clear to me that he thought he was standing in the bathroom and not in the bedroom of the woman who brought him into the world. At least I hope so. Otherwise, he may have been making a statement regarding my parenting skills. Let's go with mistaken bathroom location.

I woke up right quick. Before those thumbs had moved too far downward in their hooking motion, I barked: "To the bathroom! To the bathroom! Not here!"

Sleepily, he looked at me with hurt eyes: Why on earth is this lady yelling at me?

Seconds went by. Was he actually awake? Did he hear and comprehend me? I barked again. And Lord have mercy, he stopped mid-draw and stumbled over to the bathroom, mere steps from my bedroom door, and did his business. (Boys peeing is such a noisy business, isn't it?) Next, he turned to the bathroom door, closed it, locked it, and tried for several seconds to open it again. Finally, he got it unlocked, came out into the hallway and stood there for awhile, disoriented and confused.

"Back to bed, sweetheart. Go!" I commanded, a bit forcefully, because I was still stunned by what had almost just happened.

He looked hurt again, said something in a whiny voice indicating that I was being entirely unjust to him, and walked heavily into his room. I heard the thud of his body falling back into bed. I don't think he once fully woke up.

I, on the other hand, am wide awake. Having narrowly escaped a distinctly unpleasant wake up call, I'm pretty sure I can handle whatever comes my way today.

I'm glad it ended this way; this family does not need anymore stories like this one.

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