Oh how I long for the days when I used to sleep in until tiny rays of sunshine danced upon my eye lids and the gentle morning breeze blew softly out the window. Somewhere between the range of 10:00 and noon was a delectable time for waking up on a Saturday morning. Those were such fairy tale times of beauty rest and relaxing mind sets. Then came the kid.
Once a child is welcomed into your life your sleep patterns go haywire. It’s random time slots of shut eye, never to be woken from naturally and an achy head usually follows with each awakening. The baby years of up and down and begging for just 4 straight hours of shut eye are well beyond me as my cute little pumpkin is now at the mature age of 4. Isn’t that old enough to wake up and entertain yourself for a couple hours? Apparently NOT.
I resort to bribery on many occasions, sometimes even on my knees pleading for him to not wake me before the sun comes out. Before I went to sleep last night I had him all equipped to care for himself if he were to wake by 6 a.m. I leave the bathroom light on so he can find the potty. I have his ipad on his night stand and have trained him on how to load a netflix movie. He has a glass of water if he’s thirsty and a couple of granola bars if he gets hungry. What else could you need? Extra blankets if he’s cold. All the teddy bears he owns are on the bed in case he suddenly decides he can’t find one. The lamp is on low. The monsters are evicted. No there are no spiders in your room. Kisses, hugs, and I love you’s seal the deal. I figured I’d be good to go. “Now what are you going to do if you wake up before mommy?” I tested. He obediently replied “I’ll turn on a movie, go potty and wait for the sun to come out.” Fingers crossed I fell asleep with a smile.
5 a.m. and still pitch black outside I hear a squeaky little voice “Mommy? Mommy?” I ignore it, thinking it will go away. It does not. After coaching myself on the importance of patience, I calmly mumble “What.” “Mommy can you wipe my butt?” This is not exactly the wake up call I’d hoped for. After reminding him that he’s a big boy and knows how to wipe his own butt, and I can’t believe you woke me over a poop, it’s still dark out, blah blah blah, and why are you naked right now? “But I did wipe my butt, but it won’t get clean and you do such a good job that I want you to wipe my butt,” UGH. Are you f’ing kidding me right now?
FINE. I get up and wipe the butt and put his pj’s back on and crash back on to my bed. Of course after that, I am completely unable to fall asleep again. “Sleeping in”, I am convinced those words are erased from my vocabulary. But in exchange for them I get the words “little voice.” Therefore, I am going to be thankful that I have a little voice in my life. After all, no voice in the world has given me such joy, such fulfillment, and such love. The fact that I have a little someone to call me mommy and who thinks I’m the best butt wiper in the world is kind of sweet actually. One day he’ll be all grown up and won’t rely on me to wipe his butt or scare away the monsters. I’m #1 in his eyes right now and I think I’ll try and keep it that way as long as I can. He wants to hang out with me, play with me, and he willingly announces that I’m his best friend at the most random moments. I am his everything. Time will fly and one day I won’t be able to sleep because he’s late for curfew or may not come home. One day he may stop slobbering me with wet kisses before I tuck him in at night. I hope he never stops giving me that big bear hug that ends with him saying “Oh Mommy Mommy I love you soooo much!” and squeezing MY cheeks.
So even if I wake up a little crabby and my under eye bags are extra deep, I think I’ll take that little voice waking me up as long as I can, even if it is to be woken by a naked little boy who needs his butt wiped.
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