10:45pm: I’m actually going to sleep BEFORE 11!!!! And it’s not because I’m sick!!! And it’s not because I didn’t sleep at all the previous night!!! I’m just… GOING TO SLEEP EARLY!!!!
I shimmy under the nicely made bed (you are welcome, me!), sigh a breath of happiness, tuck my pillow ‘just so,’ and plop my head down.
And rotten, sliced up apples.
Ah, the never-ending joys of children.
Just when the little one finally starts sleeping through the night (because you’ve SLEEP TRAINED her – moms, don’t lie to yourselves, 3 nights of throw-up tantrum crying from a 6 month old is TOTALLY WORTH a family’s happily-ever-after all-the-night-thru sleeping), the middle one starts waking up to ask you to help her go to the bathroom. And just when you’re done with that phase, she just starts waking you up ‘because she woke up,’ and now the only way she’ll go back to sleep is if you sit with her forever at her bedside or let her crawl in uncomfortably with you & your husband.
So the odd sandbox in the bed? Shouldn’t phase me. Doesn’t phase me! I’m used to it – brush it once, brush it twice, brush it Chicken Soup with Rice.
But the apples?
Now, that threw me, I have to admit.
I suddenly remembered seeing my kids earlier in the day – playing all together, all 3 of them, laughing, enjoying… those moments are rare and sacred, so of course I didn’t want to get too close, or too involved!
Duh. Hello! Should have known better.
Because what was bonding them together, was 2 illegal (in our house) acts: 1) using knives to cut food by themselves (pink plastic knives to cut apple slices, but still…), and 2) playing with food in my bed. Oh yeah, and 3) leaving said food. In my bed.
Beneath my pillow, to be exact.
Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)