Last Night's Sleep: An "Artist's" Rendition

Sometimes words aren't enough.

Sometimes, you need badly drawn pictures.



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Last night, the Squidgelet would not sleep unless I had my hand on his head.

I'm sure this was very comforting to him.

I'm sure it made him very happy.

He certainly looked peaceful and happy.

In fact, it would have seemed very sweet to me that he wanted his mama so close.......if it wasn't such a horrifically uncomfortable position.






I tried waiting until he seemed completely and utterly asleep. In reality, it was probably only ten minutes, but it felt like two hours.





Actually, it felt more like three hours.

However long the wait was, it seemed interminable.

At long last I realized he appeared to be dead to the world and I might be able to roll over and get some sleep.







Rolling over and going to sleep felt really, really good.

Unfortunately, the Squidgelet appears to have a sensor in his body that can sense when I am happy and comfortable.





In fact, my comfort and his anger levels appear to be inversely proportional. The second I would begin to nod off, the Squidgelet would wake up and begin to howl in fury.




Back into my cramped, pretzel-like position I would go, my hand resting on the top of his head.

Immediately, the Squidgelet would drift back into a peaceful, happy sleep.





Eventually I managed to ignore the cramp in my shoulder and my aching back and drift off into an uneasy sleep.





This (of course) was the signal for the DragonMonkey to wake up.





Bleary-eyed and exhausted, I stumbled over to his room, hoping I would be able to pacify him with a bottle and a re-tucking into bed.

Instead, I found this:

(that says "projectile vomit")

Yeah.

There are many surprises in life that are delightful.

Discovering at two in the morning that your toddler is spraying vomit like a broken fire hydrant is not one of them.

For the sake of the readers with sensitive stomachs, I will not include poorly-drawn photos of the next thirty minutes of scrubbing, cleaning, bathing, and soothing.




Instead, I will fast forward to the moment I returned to my bed and slooooooowly crawled into bed between The Bean and the peacefully sleeping Squidgelet.

It felt like heaven.

I drifted off almost immediately, my body relaxing into a warm, healing sleep.
































Jealous, anyone?