is the one morning a week that my husband and I can theoretically sleep in together. We were lucky to have made it to about 7:00 AM when the STAMPEDE began. There was first the slight stirrings from next door, then the loud thumps from feet hitting the floor, then the mad dash accompanied by shrill shrieking…and finally the barging through our bedroom door. It was literally a RACE to see who could make it into our bed first to claim the coveted spot…next to me. From the very fist stirrings, WE BRACED OURSELVES for what we knew was coming, wondering how long we would last once they arrived.
The first barely beats out the second with a lightning maneuver, and the edge of the bed on my right side is his. Not waiting for the cry that I know is coming, I immediately whisk the second in between my husband and me. This really is the better spot, I would think (one that we don’t always make available)…but the other side is easier to get to in a race, and it’s all about winning really. The third is a few tiny steps behind and thrusts himself into the side of the bed, arms outreached, begging to be pulled up. He lands ON TOP of me (please don’t have a leaky diaper!), so now I am hemmed on every side, with my back to the bed…and am completely apart from My Man.
So there we lie for less than a minute before the squirming begins. Then the kicking. Then the squawking. Pretty soon they’ve left their respective spots and are burrowing through our bed like gerbils. We take advantage of the movement and shift back into a spooning position. Through the bed they go, out the foot end and back up again, making a shambles of our bedding in the process.
Why are we still lying here?
I don’t know, but we are. Is a test of endurance, a war of wills, or just a pathetic effort to savor every moment of this “sleeping in” together that we can? Then a six year old begins JUMPING on the bed and lands on my shin…CHAGRIN! And of course he denies it was him…
SO I LAY DOWN THE LAW: No jumping. No burrowing. No kicking. No…oh, what’s the use?
The three-year-old, frustrated that his Daddy’s eyes aren’t open and he’s not talking, attempts to move Daddy’s lips with his fingers in an effort to get him to talk. Amazingly, Daddy lies there motionless, as if he’s unconscious…that’s what he wants to be. Daddy has mastered the art of simply IGNORING the kids in the morning, even as they’re climbing all over him. I do not understand it. I cannot do it.
At this point I realize I have lost. So I give into defeat and get out of bed.
Note: When our first child was a toddler he remarked that his Daddy was mean in his jammies (“mean” may have been a bit of an overstatement, but Daddy really isn’t a morning person). He’s not “mean” in the morning anymore though, he just ignores them.
Do you ever have mornings like this?