Edward has decided that sleeping is no good. I mean, it’s okay for other people, it’s just not for him. Scratch that. It is not okay for other people either. At least not people in his house. Whereas he used to be a fabulous sleeper, for the past few weeks (or has it been months? I’m too tired to remember…), he has been climbing out of his bed on a regular basis, getting up in the middle of the night, and then engaging in cranky behavior all day because he is tired. Even when we think he is down for the night, he sneaks out of his bed to jump on his sleeping sister, watch “Breaking Bad,” or clean the catbox via the “Catapult” method.
The other night he was being particularly bad, so we finally decided to put him in our bedroom in the Pack ‘n’ Play so that he would not be able to come downstairs, and so his whines of protest would not wake Ruby up. We gave him multiple bubbas, which usually help him to get to sleep, and when we went up to bed he seemed to be sleeping. We transferred him back into his actual bed and happily climbed under our own covers for some much needed parental rest.
This only lasted until about 3 am, when he decided that it would be a good time to start his day. My wife took the first try of making him go back to sleep, but it didn’t work. I mentioned to her that he had already had a lot of milk and that we should not give him anymore, at which point it was declared that it was now my turn to get him to sleep. As four o’clock approached, I decided that maybe another bubba was exactly what was needed after all.
“If you’re going to give him more bubba, you need to change his diaper,” my wife warned me. But the thing was, I didn’t want to change his diaper. I wanted him to shut up and then I wanted to go to sleep. Plus, the changing table was in the other room where his sister was sleeping and I was not going to wake her up by turning a light on or having him fuss about. So I gave him a third (fourth?) bubba and put him back in the Pack ‘n’ Play for more sleeping. Luckily, I thought, since he has been up all night, he and I will both sleep late in the morning and finally catch up on our rest. And if his sheets get a little wet, well, it is laundry day tomorrow anyway, so who cares!?
I think it was around six when I awoke to the sound of screaming from the Pack ‘n’ Play. “I’m all wet!” he was shouting, and sure enough he had completely soaked through his diaper and his jammies and his mattress and probably the floor too. I got up sadly, knowing that this was clearly my responsibility, and tried to take off his saturated diaper which burst like an overfull water balloon as soon as I touched it. As my wife rolled over in the bed and pulled the covers over herself, I took the boy downstairs and turned on “Super Why.” He was quite delighted and energetic as I lay draped across the couch contemplating my own stupidity, and I vowed to myself to never again be so rash and selfish in the middle of the night, even as I knew that I would probably do the same thing again the next time. I had sown the wind before. It is beyond me why I can never remember the whirlwind that follows.