I’m sleeping in bed. I sleep on my side because the second trimester.
As I’m lying there in the dark stillness of the night, a teeny, tiny voice whispers directly into my ear.
Yeah. It’s as creepy as it sounds.
This has happened to me about six times in the past week. The first time I jumped out of my skin. What the hell!
It was my daughter. Of course it was my daughter. Who else would it be? But it took a moment to get my bearings.
Her excuses for being awake at 1:00 a.m. or 3:00 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. have been varied and numerous.
“I… I… I… I want to go downstairs.”
“I… I… I… I’m hungry.”
“You sleeping, Mommy?”
“I… I… I… I want to watch Dora.”
“I’m ready, Mommy.”
“I… need to go poop.”
“I… need a new diaper.”
For some background, she almost never gets up in the middle of the night. And this is the first time that she has rationales for being awake. I would probably find them more humorous if I weren’t four months pregnant, already waking up three times a night to pee. (Maybe I’ll switch to diapers?). Combined with her shenanigans–which she always seems to bring to me, never to her father–her nighttime calling cards are becoming frustrating.
Sometimes, she doesn’t go to bed right away. Sometimes, she needs to sing herself to sleep with a rousing rendition of “Ten in the Bed.”
While my husband is sawing logs through the whole thing of course. (How do guys do it? I’m so very jealous…)
I think it’s a growth spurt and it will be over soon.
In the meantime, I’m glad I haven’t screamed in her face in terror yet.