Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I've been Punk'd--I'm CERTAIN of it...I think...

Sometimes I think I must be getting Punk'd. I look around and try to locate Ashton Kutcher in my closet or under the bed because there is NO WAY that these things happen naturally. Take our sleepless nights for instance. I am NOT exaggerating when I explain the pattern of events at our home(s) for the last few years.

Night number one (in the cycle):

Light knock. A little louder. An all out BANG...

"Momma?  Momma! I'm ascawewrt!"
"Who are you--Brayden? Ryan? Addison? You're fine--go back to bed!"
"Nooooo. I'ma not fine...I'm ascawert! I haddabad dwreyeam!"
Sigh.  Pause.  fall back to sleep for what feels like hours until I hear:
"MOMMA! I wan toseepif YOU! I don WANNA seep in MY bed!"

Now, this is where the story changes depending on the day. Day number one usually consists of me getting up and carrying her to her bed and staying there for an hour or two until she releases the death grip she has on my arm. I then spend the next hour or two trying to fall back to sleep which only happens five minutes before the cacophony of alarms informs my husband (and everyone in the tristate area) that  he must wake up and start the day. THIS is when my real sleep finally begins--when my husband is in the shower and I am  supposed to be getting myself and my children ready to start OUR day. Only I'm not READY to start ANYTHING that doesn't include me snoring.

By this time, Ryan is up and rattling the door. Rattle, rattle, rattle.  Scratch, scratch, scratch. Rattle. Rattle rattle. Five minute pause. Rattle, rattle, rattle. Pause. RATTLE, get the point. The good news is, I get a good two to three minutes of sleep in between rattles and scratches. YAAAAYY...nope--I can't even feel it for the sake of the story.

Anyway, night number two:
"For all that is good and green on this earth, WHAT?!" If you didn't get it, the child screams at the top of his lungs until I get there. Sometimes it's Brayden, but sometimes it is Ryan. It's ALWAYS on the second night.
"I had a nightmare."
"Again? I'm sorry honey, but you seem to have nightmares all the time. Do you want to talk about it? Did you dream that you were peacefully sleeping until someone screamed like a crazy-person and woke you? THAT'S a nightmare..."
"NO! I dreamed that I had bad thoughts."
"Bad thoughts about WHAT?"
"Nothing. A nightmare about bad thoughts."
"I don't know what that means. Think about happy things and get some sleep or you aren't going to feel well tomorrow."
"I want to sleep in YOUR room. MY room is scary."
"Your room is fine--you just had a bad dream. I'll cuddle with you and rub your back until you fall asleep."

Depending upon the day, this conversation can go in circles for up to two hours. On a particularly good day, we don't even talk about it, I just immediately climb into bed and sing a song or rub backs. On a particularly bad day we go back and forth for hours and the child finally ends up in bed with us--kicking me in the kidney the rest of the night.

Night number three--Addie's back. Night number four--Brayden's turn. Ryan is only seen or heard from once every two or three weeks, but she REALLY packs it all into one night, let me tell you.  On the fifth night, it gets interesting. THIS is the night when I hear from EVERYONE. it is usually once an hour and I get up no fewer than five times. FIVE times. How is THAT even possible? By this point in the week I am crying when I hear the knock, scratch or yell. And I am looking for Kutcher.

If I am lucky enough to get a night without children screaming me awake, my husband usually steps up to the plate with his incessant--I mean--endearing-- snoring. OR I am lucky enough to get a pounding and debilitating migraine. Yaaaayyyyy me.

I just don't understand WHY this is happening. Ashton Kutcher usually shows up when the victim is nearing the end of  her rope and could very well lose his mind. SOOOO...where IS he? Kutcher? KUUUUTCHHHERRR...I'm ready to talk about how very SILLY all of this is now. Hahahaha! VERY FUNNY. Joke's on ME! HELLOOOOOOO...?!

Since Kutcher was either A. not brave enough to face me or 2. not really a part of this conspiracy, I suppose I have to deal with it on my own. Only, I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHY THIS IS HAPPENING!

Yes, I know that consistency is key in all aspects of raising children and yes, I know that we are VERY inconsistent, but have you seen how little sleep we (I) get?! I am lucky I am still standing most of the time. PLUS, my children are FIVE, SIX and EIGHT. There is NO REASON for them to get up so frequently. I KNOW they are waiting for the day when we let them sleep with us and I KNOW it inevitably does [happen], but...well, I don't know what to do! When I am THAT exhausted, I just want the crazy to stop. I don't want to talk, laugh, rationalize, walk, I give in to the behavior and make things oh-so-much worse!

Sleep on my floor, sleep on your floor, lock the door, open the door, no television before bed, television before bed if you SLEEP all night, no computer or DSI, use all of these things if you JUST SLEEP ALL NIGHT PLEASE! I know we need to stick with one thing on a regular basis, but I am not equipped to do this on little to no sleep. Do OTHER people go through these things? I know it is expected for parents to get up frequently every night with babies at home, but my children are certainly old enough to sleep through the night, right? I know I spoke about my conspiracy theory in , , and
 and that I have complained about this sleeping thing ad nauseum, but I HAVE to know. I MUST know. It HAS to stop. Kutcher--I'm watching you...


  1. Wow - totally know how you feel. my daughter just turned two and still wakes up frequently and when its not her its one of the dogs. They tag team me. Just as I get comfy in bed one of them start. It's insane!

    Circling you back on G+

  2. I'm sorry that my family will give you no hope...this isn't normal, you should know that! Your daughter will probably start sleeping well by the time she is three (did that sound hopeful enough?) and is probably nothing LIKE my children. Not sure about the dogs, however, but you have helped to cure me of THIS:

    I can't help but wonder WHY they hate us. We're good people who care for them and show them love, right? It HAS to get better! I have A LOT more sympathy for (all of the other) crazy people now--you NEVER know their circumstances and I am RIGHT on the edge...
    Thanks for the visit! Hope you deon't regret it! ;o)


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