Okay, so I have been very lucky up until this point with my 3 year old. He stayed in the crib for, I don't know, a billion years until that fateful day when he hiked his stubby little legs over the side and hoisted his big-headed body right on over the edge.
And when we converted the crib to the toddler bed, I'm not going to lie, I was afraid. I was afraid that he would never stay in the bed. That he would have massive holy hell fits if left in the bed when he found it undesirable to do so. That he would be in my bed every night because he figured out his stubby little legs worked during the nighttime too.
But did he? No.
He didn't.
Night after night went by and he would wake up, yell at me like a drill sergeant, "MOMMMAAAA! MOMMMMMAAAA! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Sometimes the drill sergeant yelling for me would startle me a bit, since it comes out of no where, but all in all, I was pretty lucky. Because he continued to stay in the bed until I arrived on the scene. This was bliss.
And then last night happened.
It is important to note that I am BEYOND STUPID when woken up and I'm not expecting it. Just ask the many RAs who have had the unfortunate experience of calling me in the middle of the night, tell me of this huge emergency situation and I tell them, "Oh that's nice." and hang up. (Important also to note that I do tend to come to my senses and call right back... or at least they know to give it another try and I'll politely tell Luke Bryan I can no longer shake it for him b/c there is work to be done... whatever).
So... last night...
Something felt eery. There was a creeper in my dream. The creeper kept whispering, "mommy. mommy. mommeeee."
Then it touched me.
And my eyes slam open and I'm face to face with it. My son.
Now, I am almost positive I left him upstairs... snug as a bug in a rug...
So I'm confused. A lotta lotta confused.
He says, "Mommy. Its time to get up."
So I think, "Oh shoot! I've over slept! It must be 7 am."
I look at the clock. It is 12:13 am.
WTF?
So I say, "Sam! What in hell are you doing up? How did you? What did you? Are you okay? Why are you up?"
He says, "But momma. Da sun is waking up."
I look outside. It is dark.
I say, "What are you doing? No it isn't. Why are you awake. Go back to bed. Wait. How did you? What? Is this real?"
He says, "It is time to get up mommy."
I pick him up and say, "No it isn't. You're going back to bed."
Husband, "Errrr.... ummm.... shhhhhhh!"
(He is such a help)
I get him back upstairs. He immediately flips out like his bed is made of lava and their are evil clowns in closet. Shit.
"Sam what is the matter?"
Sam: "The monsters will eat me."
Me: "They won't either. I killed them all. Using only my mind. I'm awesome. Go to sleep."
Sam: flailing around and screaming, "BUT IT'S DARK UP HEWE! PWEASE LET ME SWEEP WIF YOU!"
Me: "No. Go to sleep. I'll kill any monster that tries to get you. You have a night light. I'd worry about waking me up again more than the monsters."
So I finally detach him from my neck and he at least stays quiet. Who knows what actually went on up there. I tried to go back to sleep.
But I have found, when startled awake by something that used to not roam the house at night, it is a wee bit difficult to go back to sleep.
So I tossed and turned. My alarm went off. I silenced it. I was about to drift back off into sleep and I hear, "MOMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Shit. Again. It is 5 am.
So I hoist my sleep deprived butt up and stand at the bottom of the stairs and yell, "SAM! GO BACK TO SLEEP! NOW!"
Silence. Ah blessed silence.
At this point I just went on and got showered and ready. As I'm curling my hair, I hear:
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP
Shit. Was that my son tumbling down the stairs? Or did he just revert back to his old method of stairs travel?
I paused and listened some more. Then the knob on my bathroom door started turning.
"Mommy. Can I get up now?"
Yes son. You can. Do mommy a favor though and go start the coffee pot.
It is going to be a long few weeks training him to knock this crap off...
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