October 26, 2008

A Quiet Night for Me

And a noisy night for the rest of the neighborhood.

We decided at the last minute to have a campout in the backyard with the kids. We let them play in the tent for a little while to get their wiggles out - though I have learned as a mom, there is no such thing. Kids' wiggles are never out. So when the sun finally set and the tent was rocking back and forth and on the verge of collapse, I brought out some homemade cookies and the kids calmed down as we had a family chess tournament by flashlight. Then, when it was time to go to sleep, I decided that it would be better for Bridger not to be exposed to the cold night air and that I needed to stay inside with him during the night and just have Alan sleep out in the tent. HA HA! What a sly woman am I! I kissed them all goodnight and went inside the warm house, tucked Bridger into bed and cozied myself up to a good book and another cookie and milk treat. Except for the distant squeals I was hearing coming from the backyard (he he) it was a quiet and peaceful night for me.

Until. . . an hour later. When every hour, for the next 3 hours, I heard Alan tromping each child into the house to go to the bathroom. After that parade was over, Bridger's reflux kicked in pretty bad and he began crying in pain and needed to be held off and on for the next 5 hours. Somewhere in between my sleep cycles with Bridger, I heard Alan escorting Sadie inside. I went down to see what was going on. Tired and shivering with cold, Sadie whimpered to me that she "just wasn't good at tents" and she came upstairs and climbed inside her warm bed. Alan retreated back outside. I crawled back in my bed, blinked, and then the sun rose. Alan and the remaining two came in bright and early. The kids - beaming from their exciting night in the tent. Alan - muttering something about the worst night sleep he ever had. Pathetically enough, that night for me was par for the course.

As a mother, I have almost convinced myself that sleep is overrated. The children won't remember the ginormous bags under their parent's eyes that day, only the fabulous fun they had that night in a big tent in the backyard.