Last night on my way to the bathroom I passed our bedroom window and looked out-it had snowed. Only a couple of inches, but enough to make the night beautiful with the moon lighting up the world. I instantly wanted to take a walk because I love to walk in the snow-it is so peaceful, and so quiet. I didn't though, because it was dang cold in our house and my mind said "get back in bed you crazy woman!"
My husband woke early-as he usually does and so I was up at 5:30 to see him off. Most mornings I stay up puttering around the house-trying to make as little noise as possible so I do not wake the three-year-old. Today I decided to go back to bed--because I was cold and because my body really wanted to sleep more. Well, my three-year-old has super powers. She can sense if anyone is awake in the house and she will shoot out of her bed faster than a speeding bullet! She was down the stairs before I even had a chance to turn out the kitchen light. After a few back-and-forth words with her--- me:"you need to climb back in bed, it is night time." her:"no it not! I hear'd Daddy" me:"yes, Daddy went to work early, but mommy is going back to bed because the sun is not peeking through your window yet." her"wook! It snow'd! Can I go outside and make a snow angel and a snowman and wear my mittens, and my scarf, but the scarf is your scarf, can I borrow'd your scarf mommy? Can Sophie go with me? Get my coat mommy! Can you make hot chocolate?" me: "nope-it is bedtime, you can go out later--after sleep." her:"I don't wike you mommy" and then there was crying--me not her.
So after my early morning banter, I was back in bed by 5:40. My three-year-old was up at 5:50, 6:05, 6:15, 6:30, and finally at 6:45 she started playing the game "Behind which door." This is her favorite game. She goes from room to room opening doors and closing them. The bathroom was first and I must have drifted off a little because I woke like a shot when I realized she had been in there for at least 5 minutes. Now, my little one and the bathroom just spells trouble. I swung the door open to find her sitting in a pile of unravelled floss trying to clean the dogs teeth--floss that belongs to my 12-year-old who does not like ANYONE touching her things... especially not her little sister, and especially not the dog! So I saved the dog once again from experimentation and suggested that the little one does something productive with her morning, like watch some TV. Looking back, I should have just gotten up, but something happens to my body when others are up and needing me... it just wants to go back and hide under the covers. This is exactly what I did. I continued to hear my daughter pick door #2 which is my son's door and I could hear her playing with his toys-I knew it was a matter of time before WW III started so once again I trudged myself out of bed to redirect my little one to a more quiet activity... TV! Back in my warm bed again, I hear door #3 opening up. Now, opening this door is like opening up Pandora's box. The three-year-old decided to open the 12-year-old's door, waking her older sister by taking various treasures out of the numerous trinket boxes that decorate her room. I have to give her credit because she made it out of there with $3, nail clippers, one earring and crumpled up paper with "My favorite songs" scribbled across the top before she was apprehended and frisked by one angry older sister.
FINALLY the little one, having opened all the doors she could decided to watch the Wiggles. I have to say, I LOATHE the Wiggles! 4 grown men dancing and singing children songs is just creepy to me--but at this point I did not care because she was quiet and I was back in bed under my covers.
Cue phone ringing. It never fails. I do not know why I try and get a little rest around this crazy house. It is my husband on the phone. Now, before I answered the phone, you should know that I figured it would be my husband and so I start to feel guilty for climbing back in bed when he had to go off to work--so in order to cover up my sleep voice, I say hello a few times, clear my throat, say hello a couple of more times until I am satisfied that I DO NOT sound like I have been lounging in bed. My husband is frantic when I answer--which I expected. He cannot find his wallet--which I figured a phone call this early would only mean that he has lost something. My husband-God Bless him-loses things. He does this when he has a lot on his mind, which has been the case this week with work. Usually when he loses something our house goes on lock-down and everything and everyone has to partake in the finding of the lost item. It is never something easy like a comb, or his wedding band... nope it is things like his wallet, his military id card, his car keys. This morning I was able to convince him that he did actually leave it locked in his glove box in the car-which is at the commuter lot-which is far from where he is. Satisfied with that answer, he continued on to work relieved that I validated his idea that the wallet was safe.
By this time, my head was pounding from in and out sleep and I gave in... FINE! I WILL GET UP! Now, if I have to be up--everyone has to be up! I dressed the little one from head to toe in snow gear and sent her outside to shovel with her brother and the dog. The oldest retreated to her room to assess the damage her sister caused and practice her piano And me, well I had a Nutty Bar and Diet Pepsi for breakfast alone-in peace and quiet. It is the small victories that I cherish~
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1 comment:
Sounds like a typical weekend morning that I have. Some day you will get a little more sleep.
I think I found your blog through someone else's Catholic blog. You have a lot of humor in your writing. I haven't read for too long, but your husband sounds like mine in your mentionings of him in your last few posts.
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