Saturday Night Sleepover, Sunday Morning Regret

Let me set the scene up for you...my wife left to go to a Tastefully Simple conference on Tuesday. She left me alone with our five kids (against her better judgment, I'm sure). No serious problems, no emergencies, and no 36 year old man running down the street screaming like a little girl! Yeah! Now, Sunday, it's almost over. Christina is on her way home. Unfortunately, this didn't happen before the dreaded Saturday Night Sleepover.

What Saturday Night Sleepover am I talking about and why is it referred to as "dreaded"? Good question. Well, I put my kids down for the night (um, yeah, I didn't put them down verbally nor did I put them down like a dog. I put them to bed) and settled in for a little bit of "me" time. I pulled out my guitar (you know the one...the one that never gets played and that I seriously suck at playing...but that's another story) and sat on the front steps. Low and behold, my youngest came tottering down the stairs from her room and out the door to sit beside me. No matter what I did or said, she would not go to bed. No matter what I did or said, she did not stay in bed. So, realizing that my practice time was effectively over with, I went back into the house (with the youngest child, of course. Apparently, you can't leave a two year old locked out of your house...weird).

She grabbed a pillow and laid down next to the recliner I decided to sit in. Before too long, she was out. Being the really awesome father I am, I scooped her up and brought her to her bed. She seemed to be cool with that, so I was quite happy with myself. After a bit of time, I decided that I needed to go to bed. I ambled up the stairs and prepared to settle in for the night. As I was reaching for the light switch, I heard a terrible wailing. If it wasn't for the fact that it was emanating from one of the girls' rooms, I would have sworn that a banshee was foretelling a grim future (or maybe it was). I walked into the bedroom and put her back on her bed (she had rolled off of her bed). Self-satisfied, again, I went back to my room, turned out the lights, and fell into a comfortable sleep.

Not too long after falling asleep, with just enough time to put my arm to sleep, I heard the wailing again. Grudgingly getting out of bed, I went back to the room in question and found the little one on the floor again. I, again, scooped her up, put her in her bed, and started to close the door. Unfortunately, she refused to go to sleep, instead shrieking that she wanted me. I knew all would be lost unless I came up with something clever to distract her with. So, I picked her up and brought her back to my room. I laid her little body on the bed, still sniffling and shaking from her sobs, and climbed into bed next to her.

Now, this is the part where the Sunday Morning Regret comes in. You see, my precious little daughter managed to lay sideways on the bed, perpendicular to me. I was forthwith forced to lay on a piece of my queen-sized bed that was barely wider than I am! I had to make do with such a small portion of my bed because nothing I did could get her to stay in the correct position. Every time I moved her, she turned about until her feet were pushing on my shoulder or arm. After several failed attempts at correcting her, I conceded defeat and hunkered down for a fitful night's sleep.

While I am thankful that she was able to get some sleep, without continuing to cry out, I sure do miss my sleep. Good quality sleep is hard to come by, especially when your darling little daughter is pushing you out onto the edge of your own bed! So, now, I am sitting here ready to crash. I've successfully made it through church without falling asleep, I drove us safely home, and I even made two pizzas for us to eat. Now, once I finally put my two year old down for a nap, I plan on crashing hard for at least a good, solid hour! Maybe even two! Yeah!

Snkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.........................(shhhh, I've fallen asleep)