Sunday, July 26, 2015
Wakey Wakey, eggs and Bakey......or hot dogs.
People may wonder sometimes why I only have two personality emotions : grouchy or crazy. Well, this may enlighten you a bit. I had a little trouble sleeping last night, which isn't that unusual. This restless night can be attributed, in no small part, to James's very loud 11:26pm conversation with his dream time companions. I hear "Hey!" ..... "Give me that back"..... "Help me! He's got my shoe!" Sigh. These middle of the night convos are also not unusual. But they are sometimes so vehement that I'm forced to get out of bed and make sure no one is actually in James's room 'taking his shoe'. After settling James back down, I probably fell asleep around midnightthirtyish. Here it is the last week of summer break, I've had just a few measly hours of real sleep, and my precious son gets out of bed at 4:50. And I'm not talking PM. But he doesn't get up and make it obvious that it's him.... No, he slowly creaks out of bed, making all sorts of strangest noises. Creeping around the hallway outside my room. Scraping things along the floor. Breathing heavily. I, being at least half crazy, can't figure out if it is James, a burglar, a murdered or a zombie making those noises. I'm far too tired to care enough to get up and check so I just open one eye and wait to see if I'm about to be murdered or have my brains eaten, or just be really aggravated. James finally shuffles into my room trying to be quiet. I've never understood why he tries to be quiet when we both know he's going to shuffle to the side of my bed, pry open one of my eyes, lean down and talk into it like a Sonic speaker and ask me a question that will cause the pried open eyeball to roll back far enough in my head to get a good look at my brain. As he reaches the side of my bed, he indeed pulls my eyelid up and whispers, into my eyeball...."Mom... I need to eat my leftovers now. Is it lunchtime yet?" Seriously? I never answer right away because I'm digging deep into my psyche to pull up a tiny bit of patience and restraint to prevent me from saying out loud the response that has immediately popped into my brain. Of course, this just means James needs to repeat himself a bit louder and with a smudge more spittle in my eyeball when he says "lefToverS". Mm mm. Thanks son, my eye was feeling a wee bit dry. So after a moment to collect myself I respond by letting him know that it IS NOT time for lunch. It's not even time for breakfast. It is, in fact, time to SLEEP. I instructed him to look out the window, where he could confirm that it is, indeed, still night time. I also let him know that it would be in the best interest of his health and emotional well being to return himself to his bed where he was welcome to play with his iPhone or sleep. I didn't really care which, but he was not to leave his room again until he could look out the window and see the sun. He reluctantly acquiesced and returned to his room. I listened to him climb into his bed and heard the telltale click of his iPhone coming on. Good. That would keep him busy for an hour or so. I settled back in to try and get back in good with the Sandman and just as I was beginning to drift into oblivion, my darling child, who had obviously put on his head phones, chose that very moment to start belting out his own personal cover, complete with his very own version of lyrics, of Dance Dance by Fallout Boy. "Dance! Dance! Pulling a tart to bash time. What er you licking at powderpuff?" I shouted for him to be quiet, which was pure stupidity on my part because, hello...he's wearing headphones and listening to Fallout Boy at 75 decibels. So I flailed out of bed and stomped into his room, yanked off his headphone and said "MOMMY. NEEDS. SLEEP." He gave me a disgusted huff and said "You said play with my iPhone." I clarified with James that he was to play extremely quietly with his iPhone until the sun came up and I stomped back to bed. Finally I was able to drift back to sleep and thankfully James was being quiet. I had just floating around the perimeter of happy dreamland when James yanked my blinds all the way to the top and said "Ha! Look mom, there's the sun. I'm going to go get a leftover hotdog." It's now 11:05 am and guess where my angel is? Yep. He's laying across my bed, asleep. I'm currently devising unpleasant ways to wake him that don't qualify for a call to DHS..... So far ice water is my best plan. I'm kidding, of course. I would never dump ice water on my sleeping 15 year old. No. Instead I'm going to go pry open his left eye, lean in real close, and order a Sonic burger with pickles and bacon, a large order of mozzarella sticks, a small tater tot and a route 44 Mountain Dew to keep me awake for the day.