David and I have been watching "Prison Break" after the kids are in bed. It is a real roller coaster of a show, and every time we finish watching an episode I can see this little argument going on in David's brain about how late it is versus how much he wants to watch the next episode (the peril of being able to stream TV shows on Netflix). It's been fun, but the problem is that the show leaves me so tense that it takes a good hour afterward for my heart to recover from the adrenalin overload. So, while David is snoring within two minutes of his head hitting the pillow, I have been adding to my sleep deficit.
That, and the fact that Matthew started yelling for me at 3 a.m. (which I couldn't ignore, seeing as he had gone to bed with a fever), convinced me that my little quiet time indulgence today would be to settle down in my bed with a book. It didn't take long for me to nod off. And it didn't take long for Michael to wake me up.
The first time he came into my room I was so soundly asleep that having a conversation with him was like slogging through wet concrete. "What do you need, Michael?"
"A treat!"
"Not right now. This is quiet time and I'm having a rest, so you need to find something else to do."
Three minutes later he was back, whispering in a matter-of-fact tone at my bedside:
"It's your fault I ate all the orange chips, Mom, because you left them out on the counter."
I thought about pointing out the questionable logic of his statement, but I was too tired. Instead I said, "Michael, go away."
Two minutes after that:
"I want to watch a movie."
Resigned to the fact that abandonment of my warm comforter was imminent, I said, "Okay. Give me ten minutes and I'll come put a movie on for you," hoping that would be enough time to shove the concrete out of my brain.
One minute later my door opened again and he was standing two inches from my face.
"I just can't leave you alone, Mom," he said.
No kidding.
So, I threw back the covers, turned on "The Princess and the Frog", and now I'm avoiding the daily afternoon kitchen clean-up. It is extra messy since the babies got ahold of a box of cereal and are alternately shoving fistfuls in their mouths and spreading it over the entire floor.
I would interfere, but it is my policy not to mess with happy babies unless they are in immediate danger.
Besides, they both have poopy diapers and who wants to mess with that?
2 comments:
Prison Break did the same thing to me. Marshall would fall right asleep and I would be on an adrenaline rush, wide awake. I first discovered this with 24 so I had to make sure we went to bed with enough time for me to fall asleep. Ha! Doesn't always work. Prison Break does get less intense, but it is an evil catchy show!
I love Michael's logic. Of course it is your fault he ate the orange chips.
My kitchen is a pit too. And, my youngest is almost two. She still dumps cereal all over the place.
Too bad Michael doesn't know how to change diapers.
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