Before kids, alarm clocks woke me up. When I was pregnant, my bladder woke me up. After birth, my newborn woke me up every two hours. Next, teething, upset tummies, and nightmares woke me up at all hours of the night. Now, my kids wake me up in different ways that aren’t always…normal.
“Do you think she is awake?” Brad asks.
“I don’t know,” answers Wil.
“Her eye twitched.”
“Ok then, poke her.”
“No, you poke her.”
“Let’s put our finger in her nose.”
“Ok, let’s do that.”
Waking up to a finger in your nose is not exactly comfortable, “Good morning. What do you two want?” I asked.
“We’re hungry,” they said in unison.
“Of course,” I smirked.
The door slams open down the hallway, feet pound and “BAM!” goes our door. Our not so subtle Brad has entered the room. “Mommm?” He asks in a whiny tone. “Can I watch TV?”
Wil is much more stealth. He has no military training that we know about, yet he silently climbs in our bed without waking us up. We only notice when he starts thrashing and kicking us. He and the dog somehow end up in the middle of the bed with my husband and me hanging on the outer edges with no blanket.
“MOM!” yells Wil. I stumble into his room squinting to read the clock. I notice every light in his room is on, I squint harder.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I had a bad dream,” he says.
“What was it about?”
“The Lego’s came alive and I was surrounded.”
“Well, the Lego’s are asleep, let’s tuck you in and get you to sleep.”
“Can we leave all the lights on?”
“Mom? Are you awake?” … “Mom? Mom? Are you awake?” asks a very faint whisper.
“I am now.”
“I don’t feel well.”
“What is it?”
“My stomach hurts.”
Silently I think, “Now it’s my bad dream.”
Deep into my dream, the house cleans itself, clothes never need washing, kids never argue, and Brad Pitt is flirting with me at the coffee shop, I sense something in the room. Something is staring at me and it is not Brad Pitt. I awake to eyeballs peering at me from two inches away. I jerk back and orient myself in the dark. It is Wil.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but I heard a noise at my window.”
“It probably was the wind.”
“I think it’s a monster”
“Go wake Dad, that’s his department.”
“Is he home yet?” asks my husband.
“No,” I answer.
“Its 11:58, he should be home.”
“Is that the garage door opening?”
“Goodnight, sleep well.”
Someday all this will lessen, but without kids to wake me up, it may be my bladder waking me up from it not being able to sleep through the night.