Remember when I wrote about sleep all the time?

Yeah, well, if you didn’t like it then, this might be a good time for you to click on the good ‘ol back button because sleep- technically LACK of sleep- is officially back to being problem. Only this time it’s the Gavinator’s turn to make my life, as well as the area under my eyes, a living hell.

Let’s see… where to begin… hmmmmm. I’m not even sure how it all started. One day, Gavin was going to bed at night and for naps with little fussing and then the next thing you know, the husband starts making a daily routine out of napping with him and all of a sudden Gavin no longer wants to sleep by himself. In fact, he goes frickin’ ape shit if left alone in his room for one nanosecond.

So let’s recap:

Gavin was a great sleeper. In his bed. Alone.

Daddy started napping with Gavin. In mommy and daddy’s bed. Together.

Gavin no longer wants to sleep alone. He wants to sleep in mommy and daddy’s bed. He can only sleep in his bed if mommy or daddy lay on the floor.

What could have possibly happened to have made Gavin not want to sleep alone?

I’m no rocket scientist but could it be because the frickin’-frackin’, son-of-a-motherless-goat, husband of mine thought it would be a fine and dandy idea to start taking naps with him?????

Ding ding ding ding ding!

Now believe it or not but I’m not perfect. I am guilty of the establishment of numerous bad habits in both our children:

Kids screaming at the top of their lungs for fun? That was me.
Kids wanting to listen to the same song over and over again? Again, me.
Gavin digging for gold? I totally taught him that (I rock)
A taste for the fantabulous Diet Sprite thus prompting the incessant wails of “spite, spite, spite, spite” everytime anything that even remotely resembles a can of Diet Sprite comes into field of view? You’re welcome because that was sooooo me.

BUT!!!!! I have not messed with the one behavior I hold the nearest and dearest to my heart! The ability of a child to nap and sleep through the night in his or her own bed is sacred and no one- I mean no one- should mess with that.

Yes, I know he is cute, and yes, he is snuggly wuggly, and yes, it is really sweet to wake up and have his angelic little face be the first thing you see, and yes, they do grow up too fast and these are precious times that should be cherished. I slept with him when he was a baby and I slept with Grace for 9 straight months. I know there are plenty of perks to sleeping with your kids but one of the downsides (aside from the random foot in the rib or baby on the boob ALL night) is that I CAN’T SLEEP!

I wish! I wish, I wish, I wish I was one of these family bed kind of folks but I’m not. I like to sleep. I’m a better mom when I sleep. I’m a better wife when I sleep. Hey! You’re better looking when I sleep. Dear God just let me sleep without a kid in my bed!

Fortunately, he doesn’t sleep in bed with me all night but to get him to go to sleep, either Lloyd or I must lie on his floor next to his bed until he falls asleep. This takes HOURS. I’m still waiting to pay off the credit from the doughnut I ate the other night but by the time Gavin is in bed, the husband (who wakes up at 3:00 am) has to go to sleep. After Gavin falls asleep, we must tiptoe out of his room and 9 times out of 10 my knees, ankles and feet pop and I wake him up.

Damn you poppity joints!

What wakes Gavin up in the middle of the night and results in him coming to bed with me is Lloyd leaving to go to work. Yet again, something I can blame on the husband. It never fails that at a little before 4:00 am when Lloyd is going to work Gavin wakes up and runs to his bedroom window and screams “NO, DADDY! NO DADDY LEAVE! NO DADDY WORK!” Apparently Gavin is not biased towards mommy when it comes to working. He wants us both to stay at home.

I always run straight into his room to get him because hello, his room is right across from Grace’s and I DO NOT want him to wake her up. As much as it sucks to sleep with a toddler it beats having a kid attached to my boob all night.

Last night I got Gavin and brought him to bed with me and it wouldn’t be too bad but he turns into a miniature king-sized bed dictator. Truthfully, I can’t be for certain if he is a “miniature” king-sized bed dictator because I don’t know if there are other king-sized bed dictators... never mind king-sized bed dictators of varying sizes. But that’s neither here nor there. Point is, dude becomes BOSSY!

I put him down on one side and of course he has to roll over and get right up next to me. Then he wants the blue pillow. So, since he is 1/1000th of an inch away from me, I get the blue pillow for us to share. BUT, he doesn’t want me to use the blue pillow so I must slide down and put my head on the white pillow.

Then I roll over away from him so I don’t feel his hot, toddler breath all on my forehead and gets mad because I roll over and says “mama face”. I roll back over to face him.

Then the cat meows and he is all “uh-oh! Cat talking.”

Then, he realizes my hair is still wet from swimming earlier in the evening (egads… my mom would flip shit if she knew I went to bed with wet hair). Since my mom isn’t there to tell me how wrong I am for sleeping with wet hair, he starts in with “uh-oh, mama! Hair wet! Wet hair!”

Then I get him to shut up and I curl up in a little ball because that is how I like to sleep but heaven help the king-sized bed dictator because he doesn’t want our legs to touch and he’s all “no mama legs. Mama legs down”.

Argh. Finally we fall asleep and the next thing you know 15 minutes have passed and it is time for me to get up. My alarm goes off, I nurse Grace in bed then I put her back down in her room where she returns to sleep (because she is now and awesome sleeper and therefore my favorite child), I shower, I put on my make-up, and I even dry my hair within 5 feet of him and dude does not budge! He snoozes through all of it but one slamming of Lloyd’s car door at 4 am and he is up and at ‘em! What tha?

Tonight we’re going to try parking the car on the street so Lloyd can roll the car down the street before starting the car and closing the door.

Right.

It totally sounds like a joke but if it is, I’m the punchline.