Night Terrors

Okay, so Demi actually does get night terrors, maybe once every other week, but what I’m actually referring to with the title of the post is my children. My perfect little angel faces that seem to have a tough time going to bed lately. And staying in bed. Any bed. Pick a bed. If only they would just stay in a bed.

Tonight was a fine example.

Joe went out for a rare meet-up plus drinks with an old friend. He left the house at 7:45 as we were wrapping up bath time. The following 1.75 hours nearly broke my spirit.

First up was Demi. In addition to the usual antics (telling me she wasn’t tired after telling me she was tired and asking for bread which she stuffed into her mouth in one bite), she also went through the following excuses to not go to sleep:

  • “Me want my daddy”
  • “Where is my daddy?”
  • “Why?”
  • “Where Coco?”
    • I then proceeded to turn the house upside down looking for Coco and as I was giving up with Demi whining in the other room, Cam confessed he hid Coco behind Demi’s bed
  • “Where Hattie?”
    • Hattie was quite a bit easier to find thank god
  • “Me blanket”
    • I pulled up the sheet only because it’s a warm night
  • “No, other blanket”
    • I pulled up the second blanket
  • “I have a snaggle”
    • Last time she said that, she actually did have a giant rip in her fingernail that was snagging the sheets, so mom guilt from that caused me to turn on lights and clip her non-existent snaggle
  • “Brother coughing. Too loud.”
    • Seriously!?
  • “Where’s my daddy? Me sad. Me want my daddy.”
  • “Me pinotail in my way” (followed by a fake cry)

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Next up was Cam.

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Since Demi took so long to fall asleep, he got more than just his “20 minutes of cartoons” which always makes him extra greedy for more. I warned him before putting Demi to bed that we’d have to turn the TV off immediately after I came out and he agreed that was okay (“unless it’s really close to the end,right mom?”). So, of course, I turn off the TV and tears.

My next move was to tell Cam all about crazy Demi so he would potentially act more mature about bedtime and cut mom a break. It seemed as though it was going to go that way because he calmed down and then:

  • “I must not have had enough dinner”
    • Gave him a cheese stick
  • “I’m still hungry”
    • I explain it takes time for cheese sticks to travel to the stomach
  • He pours his blue cup of water from dinner into Demi’s pink cup from dinner so he could reclaim the pink cup he wanted so bad. Then he drinks the contents. Lo and behold the pink cup had a sprinkling of mom and dad’s salad topping (which included chili flakes) and he proceeds to lose his mind over the burning. Tears, running around, gargling water, crying, asking how long it’s going to burn. After 4 cups of water and 1 cup of milk, he says it’s a little better.
  • “I have to go to the bathroom”
  • “I don’t think I got it all out”
  • “Where’s Bun-Bun? I can’t sleep without Bun-Bun.”
    • I systematically tear apart his room, then check the living room, then check the back patio and begin to lose my mind. I tell Cam I can’t find Bun-Bun but Elephantie would love a snuggle and he starts wailing. A few minutes later I tell him I can’t do anything about it, start arranging his sheets and find the coveted Bun-Bun.
  • Cam asks if we can snuggle, of course we can, and he nuzzles his head into my chin and continues burrowing until I’m hanging off the bed.

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Between my mental notes that “change gon’ come” and “how much longer do I have to balance my body on the edge of the bed?” I attempted to summon some gratitude. It was a good day, my crazy kids are healthy, there is a bottle of wine on the counter and I will too soon be handing my keys to my teenager, so I’d better suck it up and enjoy it for what it is.

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