Wednesday, February 25, 2009
What do "Mamma Mia", Firetrucks, quesadillas, Great Mimi, and eskimo kisses have in common?
Hi! I wish I was bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning, but I am not. Corby looks far worse than I -- he looks like he stayed up all night bar hopping. I wish we could say we had been bar hopping -- but alas we did not, we were up with Q.
Last night he woke up screaming at like 12:15. Usually when this happens (which is not that often) we let him cry a little and then he goes back to sleep. Last night though, his crying led to a runny nose, which then lead to a cough and when that happens it usually leads to a barf. So after a while he started making sounds like he was throwing up and we hightailed it upstairs. Luckily, it was just a wee bit and easily cleaned, but he had gotten his wish -- both of us were up there. The problem with going up when he calls and/or cries right away is because he wakes right up and refuses to go back to bed -- he wants to read books and go downstairs and watch a movie, etc. I stayed up there for 15 minutes trying to get him to put his head back down and go to sleep to no avail (at which time he told me he wanted a quesadilla and/or pizza and then got very upset with me for not having them) and then a super grumpy Corby came up and relieved me and he worked on the situation for another 45 minutes, finally just putting him back in his bed and leaving the room. Yes, he cried but he quieted down and we were able to see that he was laying down. 5 minutes passed and he started screaming for me. He would flip around go back to sleep, 3 minutes later he would cry for me again. This repeated for about 45 minutes until Corby said he had enough and he was going to bring him down to get in bed with us. He did -- Quen got right into bed and cozied up next to me -- I was very hopeful he was going to go back to sleep. Um, yeah, not the case. Chatty Cathy started giving me Eskimos kisses, he talked about Great Mimi (my grandmother who he never knew but knows only by a photo in the hall), he sang a little -- some itsy bitsy spider mingled with twinkle, twinkle little star. I told him to be quiet and listen for the "fire trucks" (a trick a made up a little while ago -- it makes him get his mind off of whatever he is thinking and be quiet for a minute -- just enough time for sleep to get him if we are lucky). He then leaned over to give Corby tickles who was not in the mood to get tickles and then he head butted my nose. I sprang up and screamed, he burst into tears, Corby pops up legs and arms flailing -- I am still not sure that I do not have a broken nose this morning. After that the only way to calm him was to let him sleep on me -- but the position he chose was crazy. He knelt above my shoulder and laid down the length of my torso, between my boobs and had his head on my belly. It was strangely comfortable and thought we finally had him asleep as he quieted down and I patted his back. Not the case. He sprung up and burst into "Mamma Mia" by Abba. I could not hold back the laughter at this point. I shook the mattress as I tried to stifle it. Corby was such a grump -- he would not even admit it was funny. That was it for him he scooped up Q and herumphed off to the den where he toughed out the rest of the night on the sofa. Q finally went to sleep a little after 4:00 on his father's tummy -- picture is attached. It was a long night in the Hilley household. Corby, even though he was grand poobah of grouches deserves a merit award for the effort he put in to getting Quen to sleep.