Rough Night

Ten years ago a “rough night” would have started with a group of great friends and a tasty mixed drink.  There would have been a dance club, loud music, lots of laughing and hot guys everywhere avoiding me like the plague.  A “rough night” would have ended with me waking up with a headache from hell at a random friends house, most of the time it was someone I knew, and usually I had my own pants on.

These days a “rough night” has taken on a whole new meaning.  It starts with my husband heading off to work, leaving me to fend for myself with these three kids.  They’re SO needy.  “Feed me”, “Change my diaper”, “Pay the water bill so I can thrive”, Whatever…

Around three in the A.M. my littlest one wakes up screaming.  He usually sleeps through the night but likes to keep me on my toes by spontaneously waking me up using what I call the “Pig Slaughter Scream”.  I’m not quite sure if I need to get him a bottle, or an exorcist.  I run to the kitchen to pour him a bottle.  If this doesn’t work I’ll have to contact a priest.

After getting his bottle I lift him out of his crib and get a nice cold wet spot on my hip.  Nothing like being soaked in someone else’s pee in the middle of the night.  (Although this does take me back to one “rough night” I had ten years ago.) So I change him, and his bedding and settle in to cuddle as he finishes his bottle.  Then he rolls onto my chest looks me right in the eye, and as I was thinking about what a beautiful angel he was, he lets out a foul burp right into my face.  Okay, bedtime kiddo.

Baby said “No”.

This begins the power struggle.  I refuse to take him out of his crib just because he’s throwing a tantrum.  He refuses to stop throwing a tantrum just because I won’t take him out of his crib.  After several minutes of high-pitched howling, my middle girl comes into my room.  She started off yelling at me to “make it stop” and then she had the nerve to ask me why I was sitting in the corner hugging my knees and rocking back and forth.

I tuck my girl back into bed and kiss her on the forehead.  High fever alert!  I think she was just doing it for attention.  I got her some fever reducer and went to check on the baby.  He wasn’t crying anymore, just babbling in his bed, so I laid down to try to go back to sleep.  I can hear him talking, repeating a phrase that sounded something like “Momma Lose”.  I told him to “shhh” and miraculously he did.  For like ten seconds.  Then he began practicing his new “burping on demand” trick.

We never did get back to sleep. Clearly the “rough nights” I had ten years ago were so much more fun. But I can barely remember them now.  These “rough nights” with my kids…now these I’ll always remember.  I have to, in order to punish the kids accordingly when they get older.

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2 responses to “Rough Night

  1. Love, love, love the abuse that takes place in your house, your baby will win, hands down, he has the young blood raging through him right now. And your daughter, such an attention seeker, fever, geez…was she sticking her head infront of the oven, yet again? Tell her to go work at Walmart already… Lots Of Love, Jayme XO

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