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Thursday, February 17, 2011

Angry Little Alarm Clock Heads

On one fine recent morning, I am two cups of coffee in and quickly finding out that no amount of coffee is going to help me on this day. I cannot even peel my eyes open.

The one thing I don't think I will ever get used to about motherhood are the tired little heads that have become my alarm clocks. I don't even need to set one anymore. They exist all on their own.

Yes, long gone are the days of sleeping in and to a non-morning person, this is nothing short of tragic.

Mostly though, I have come to be one with it (sort of) except for when I am woken up in the middle of the night by angry screaming, which is the scariest type of heart-attack inducing alarm clock ever.

Not a chirp or a song or some buzzing or the sounds of the rainforest or paradise or kisses or anything.


Now, I don't know that he's actually saying these things at the time, all I hear is screaming and so I sit straight up in bed, frazzled and panicking, convinced that gunfire has gone off somewhere, not being able to conceptualize the evil sounds that woke me up in a shot and why someone is screaming at me. Nor do I even hear the words, just the sound of yelling.

My heart is pounding out of my chest and I can't catch my breath.

Surely, someone is dying or has broken into the house or is on fire.


Soon after, the realization sets in that no one is dying and no one has broken into the house and that no one is on fire but still my chest is pounding and now it's slowly filling up with the wrath of a mommy that is now not only awake, but has been awoken by something so totally non-tragic in a terribly tragedy-stricken sort of way. Which was that his blankets fell off his bed. Not tragic to me, obviously tragic to him. But now abundantly clear that we totally have to work on what warrants tragic screaming in the middle of the night and what doesn't.

Mentally noted.

So as the angry head storms out of my room, I storm off after him with my eyes half open and only open enough to spot a "2" on the microwave clock that I immediately begin to pray belongs to "2" that is part of some minutes left up on the timer after I took something out before the timer went off. But it doesn't, it belongs to the "2" of a 2:20 a.m.

I explain to him not so nicely (remember, I just got up from having a heart attack) that he may not wake us up by yelling and storming off and slamming his door. That it is very scary to be woken up that way and would he like to be woken up that way? And I don't really know what I am saying either because I'm angry and sleepwalking and should not be up at 2 anything unless something is either really wrong or has really sweetly woken me up with a kind, gentle kiss on my cheek to kindly request blankets be restored to his bed. Or something like that.

I storm back to my room, throw my covers back on and hear more yelling from across the house, so I leap out of bed because now surely someone must be on fire so I am running and "shushing" at the same time so as to put out the verbal fire before it wakes up everyone in the house and won't that be nice.

"I WANT MY BLANKETS ON!" he yells as I get in the door.

"We JUST TALKED about this," I whisperyell, "Why are you still yelling?"

"I WANT MY BLANKETS ON! THEY FELL OFF WHEN I PICKED UP BIG FROGGY!" (Aforementioed message apparently not received. Mental note to revisit.)

I guess when he got out of bed to get "Big Froggy", which is his (shockingly) really big froggy, he tragically didn't get the blankets back on right. Of course he's now following directions because he doesn't get out of bed to yell at me in a burst through my door (like I specifically requested) but instead he's angrily yelling at the top of his lungs from his bedroom, all the way across the house (note to self: clarify process in future).

I cover up my angry little man with a sweet "mother is now fully awake" voice that says, "Stay in your bed until your alarm clock goes off. If you need me, come get me and use your whisper voice. Please. Thank you. Good night."

But that doesn't help me in any way. He does not come get me again, he is now sleeping soundly but I am not.

I am now fully awake and until 5:30 I am tossing and turning. I finally fall asleep until the other little head comes in an hour later and I feel eyes on me.

I think someone is here in my room but I am not sure. It is dark. My eyes open to see the outline of a tinier head than the one that burst in earlier.

"Is it wake up time yet?" the head whispers.

No. No it is not.

I squeak out, "Uh huh," because the sun is coming up and so I drag myself out of bed and make coffee because I am in for a long, long day.


DeanO said...

A kids gotta have his blankey - even if it is 2:20 am

Christie O. said...

LOL Dean, don't I know it!

Joanna said...

Note to myself: Do NOT try to drink coffee while reading Christie's post... CHANCE OF SPEWAGE!!!

I know the blanket problem all to well, but luckily for me my 3 year old just drags to blanket to my room, throws it on my head, and asks me to come and "fix it".

I'm sorry you had such a rough night. :(

Kirsten said...

I pretty much hate all alarm clocks, but the angry head alarm clocks are the absolute worst.

AnnG said...

When my oldest son was about 2 or 3 I told him that UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY he was not ALLOWED to wake me BEFORE the numbers on my clock AT LEAST 8 o'clock!! it worked really well for the most part until my youngest son was born and he just didn't get that message as clearly! Finally now at 7 he understands that the situation better be urgent if he's gonna wake me up early! And lost blankets, needing a drink or any such nonsense does NOT constitute an emergency! Hope you get to have some good quality sleep!!

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