In the Wee Small Hours

She started out in her own bed last night, like many nights. By midnight though, she was not having it anymore.

I bring her into bed with me to attempt some sleep.

She reaches over, yelling out in her half-sleep for me. I lean over and try to comfort her with her binky and a gently squeeze. She yells again. Thus begins the next three hours of hazy, half-awake nurse for two seconds, binky for two seconds, yell, nurse for two seconds, binky for two seconds game. At 3:30, I finally get frustrated enough to wake up enough to deal with this on a deeper level.

I stumble around the bedroom, while Derek wakes up and keeps her from falling out of the bed. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"She needs medicine." I say back. Can I find the liquid tylenol or motrin? No. That would be silly. I know we have a bottle of each... where the heck are they? I search. She screams. It's fun.

Miriam is almost a year old. She has no teeth. I assume anytime she behaves this way, therefore that she is teething. I have yet to be right, but ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO BE VINDICATED!

Finally, I find a bottle chewable tylenol. One tablet for a two-year old? Fine. She can have half. I break it in half and am grateful it's one of those melt-away kinds, because remember she has no teeth.

She thinks this is delicious and wonderful.

I sit with her feet on my lap, binky in mouth as she starts to doze. Then suddenly, her eyes fly wide open and she starts babbling and kicking her feet. Huh?

Oh. I give her a sniff. She now needs a new diaper. Great. Thanks kid. That's just perfect. I don't have any diapers up in my room because I'm not accustomed to middle-of-the-night-stinkies. We, using my flashlight app make our way toward the living room.

As we pass Henry and Oliver's room, I see Oliver sitting up in his bed. Weird for 4am. Sometimes though he sits up and lays back down in his sleep. I pause to see what's up. He looks right at me. "I need new pants." Then I smell what he means.

Truly bizarre, Oliver NEVER wets the bed. Well, never say never. I set Miram down on the floor and she yells at me because, hello, she has needs here. I help Oliver into dry clothes and strip and remake the bed. Miriam cries. Henry sleeps through entirely. Amazing.

We make our way downstairs, and I realize the situation is much worse than I thought. She needs new pajamas too. Much complaining as I set her down to hunt some up. Finally, she is clean, my hands are clean, the dirty is put where dirty belongs.

I am dying.

She is AWAKE.

I take her back upstairs and realize it's cold in the boys' rooms because their windows are open. The last thing I want is awake boys at 4:00 because they are chilly. I shut the windows, thrilled to see Oliver has gone back to sleep.

Into bed we go, she kicks me. She nurses. Binky. Nurse. Binky. I look at my phone. It's after 4:15 now. Then 4:30. Then 5:00.

Finally, either she gets tired or maybe that medicine I gave her kicked in, I don't know. She sleeps.

In mere moments, but it actually over an hour, Derek's alarm goes off. Ezra comes in, needing attention, Miriam sleeps on. Thank goodness. I finally manage to crawl out from her, she had been using me a pillow of course, and find that Derek has already left for work. Sigh.

Now it's day, and I'm tired.

Everyone is awake, and I must fight the temptation to ignore everyone and let Netflix play on and on.

Good morning world.