Rude Awakenings

For several months now I have been thinking that my six year old son has been sleeping in. I don't hear the (generally quite loud) little guy until I open my eyes at around 7:30 and stumble downstairs. There I find him engrossed in some inappropriate television show that he has somehow figured out how to request from our on-demand cable service in the "kids" section. I have yet to decipher how to parental control these programs so I guess it's not surprising that he has technologically surpassed me. Nonetheless, it's a blow to my maternal ego each morning when I hear the Super Ninjas whacking each other with batons and ray guns.

Hence why yesterday I decided that Nathan needed a few days off from television, and while we're at it, let's throw in computers and iphones too (the kid can find video game-like entertainment with any type of screened device). Great, why not?

I soon found out why not. Apparently Nathan now wakes up at 5am, as he made very clear to me this morning by sausaging himself into my bed next to me at the crack of dawn and letting me know in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of going back to sleep. Good Lord.

So I did what every other sleep-worshiping parent does at 5am, and shuttled him back to his bed, nestling myself under his covers and trying desperately to form a cozy cocoon of warmth to lull him back to sleep. Surprise surprise, it started to work! His eyes started to close in unison with mine as we drifted back into that glorious pre-dawn slumber.

Unfortunately I had forgotten one tiny (but crucial) detail. Sofie. When I leapt from my bed trying to prevent Nathan from waking her up (because at age 2 where else could she possibly be other than wedged firmly in the bed in between her parents?) I didn't think to bolster up my empty space in the bed with pillows. My eyes sprung open as I heard the loud THUD followed by the long wail as she sailed out of the bed face first onto the hardwood floor.

One bloody split lip later we were all downstairs reading stories on the couch at 5:30, leaving the glory of slumber to my imagination. Sofie sniffled in the mirror every so often to examine her wounded face, the occasional sob shooting out of her as a guilty reminder that it is impossible to be in two places at once.

The joys of motherhood don't come easily to me before the sun comes up. I'm giving up on productivity today, tomorrow is another day to live out the dream of sleep.