The con man.
Have I ever told you that my kids are the worst sleepers of all time? Have I? Well, they are. I’m sure they’re written about us in some clinical book on sleep, or in the book, ‘The Baby Whisperer’ with the caption, “This is how NOT to get you baby to sleep.”
I won’t get into all the details as to why their bad sleepers, but lets just say this: when we eventually do get to sleep, we’re usually met by one or both boys in our bed at about 4am. And, yes, I know, you don’t need to say it. We should take them back to their bed. But see, we’re so exhausted by that time, that we say ‘hell with it’, and I end up going to their bed.
But no more. We have a plan and we’re sticking to it. We have an egg timer where we allow for a cuddle and then it’s lights out. The past 2 weeks have been painful. Listen, if someone told me to go to sleep at 8pm, I think I’d kiss them and hop into bed, but not these kids. You’d swear they were missing a party.
But the other day I was upstair when I heard a ruckus in Evan’s room. I went in to see David demolishing Evan’s bed frame and I feared that out of sleep deprivation, David finally had enough and was kicking them out. He explained that he was getting Evan a new bed, because Evan told him that the reason he wouldn’t sleep is because his bed was uncomfortable. Dude: Please!
So Evan got himself a new bed, and not just a new bed, but a double bed that is three quarters the size of his room. And let me just say, it’s the most comfortable mattress even more comfortable than ours, his parents, the wee ones that paid for his bed, and the mortgage, the ones that are getting old, quickly.
And now, when I lay for my cuddle with Evan, it’s all I can do to not go to sleep with him.
You don’t suppose that was all part of his plan, do you?