I've been pretty blessed with two kids who are great sleepers. I don't know if that's genetic, but their mom has been known to have slept soundly through a terrible thunderstorm that literally was flooding the very tent she was sleeping in; and their dad spent quite a bit of time sleeping in college...even missing a final once because his bed was far too comfortable to leave. Genetic or not, they both sleep through the night and have done so since switching to formula when they were infants. (I know, some people reading this might be bitter about this...and I'm sorry for that. Believe me, I extend my sympathies to you, and remind you that in a few short months, I'll be back to waking every few hours to soothe a crying newborn before older brother and sister wake). As I was saying, they sleep well--unless their bed is wet, there's an emergency (like the cat is trapped in their room and is pouncing on their head), or their sick.
So at 1:30 a.m., when I hear Brynn crying, I know something is wrong. When I reached her room, daddy was there, leaning over her bed trying to calm her (how did he hear her before me? I must've been having a good dream!), but she wanted no parts of him when she saw me. Normally, I'd adore this, however in the middle of the night, the adoration from my daughter is a little less endearing. Needless to say I lay down in bed with her to cuddle and calm and dry her tears because after all, she had said her ear hurt. Little did I know I just answered a silent invitation to a middle of the night game of 'Musical Beds'.
Shortly after laying down, Brynn was squirming toward the foot of her bed, blanket and stuffed cow in hand. She said 'I'm not tired in my bed, let's go downstairs'. I grabbed a pillow and followed the munchkin to the couch, got comfortable and closed my eyes. She was wiggling around in my arms. Toss. Turn. Toss. Turn. Kick. Sit up and stare at me. I peeked at her with one eye opened and could see her shadowy face peering back at me with her bottom lip out so far that a bird could perch on it. "I want to lay in mommy's bed." Up the stairs we went, pillows, blankets, stuffed cow and all. I plopped her into the middle of the bed between daddy and myself, lay down and get settled. Toss. Turn. Toss. Turn. Kick. Rub my arm. Snort. Toss. "Mommy?". "Yes, Brynn?" "I want to lay in my bed."
Back in her room, snuggled up under the covers, I asked her if she wanted me to lay with her. She said no, rolled on her side and settled in for sleep. Ahh...bliss. I wandered back to bed, and got comfortable. I was just shy of much needed sleep and I heard a whimper. Back in Brynn's room, I was informed that I needed to make the wind stop, as that was making her ear hurt. While it is adorable that my daughter thinks I'm capable of anything--including stopping the wind--but again, at 1:30 (now 2:00), it's a little less-than-endearing. At any rate, I decided at this point that I didn't care if her ear really hurt or if it was because of the wind, I was going to rely on my dear friend 'Magic Motrin' to ease her mind, and help her sleep (thus, helping me sleep too!). After swallowing her meds, I settled her back down into bed and used the stuffed cow as a sound muffler over her ear, and once again make the trek back to bed. I swear she was snoring before I even got settled back into bed. Good for her, but now I'm past the point where I can just 'fall back asleep'. Typical.
At some point I was drifting off to dreamland again...when I heard it. Not crying, but crinkling. The unmistakable sound of a cat getting into something he shouldn't be. It was all of my restraint not to scream, but I grabbed my phone (love the flashlight app), and went on a scavenger hunt. Diego was hiding under the dining table with the Band-Aid wrapper I had disposed of hours ago when Gavin woke up at 9:30 to tell me he had a hangnail (I'm beginning to think my kids really aren't good sleepers?!). Let's just say Diego is lucky I didn't kick him outside (partially because he took off and was hiding under our bed).
On my way upstairs (again), I checked in on each of the kids (both sleeping soundly...lucky ducks!), and lumbered back to bed (again). My mind was too 'turned on' to sleep, so I was looking up various baby/pregnancy questions that have been nagging me, because I'm realizing that I forget some of these once 'simple' answers. I must've found what I was looking for, because the next thing I knew it was morning.
Brynn woke at her normal time (apparently she doesn't understand the concept of making up for lost sleep), but I guess I can't be upset at her, because her ear still does hurt. I'm not happy about her pain, but it does justify our Musical Beds game and my ruined night of sleep. So with that, we're off to the pediatricians to check her ears. Of course, she has hopped up from the couch and is currently playing with blocks, even though 15 minutes ago she looked like this...
and 15 minutes before that, she looked like this...
Praying for my 'good sleepers' to return to me tonight...
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