Frat Boy Parties

Last night was rough. For some reason I thought I would try and tweak Keegan's bedtime a bit. It resulted in him falling asleep super quick and being in bed 30 minutes sooner than he normally does. He was also fairly easy to get back to sleep the first time he woke up. Wow! This is awesome.

I went to bed at 10.

Less than 5 minutes later he's awake again (I'm not really surprised as he doesn't sleep more than 40 minutes anyway) so I go out and bring him back to bed with me. It's the same thing I do every night, Pinky.

Then 10:00 became 11:00.

And 11:00 became 12:00.

Keegan is dancing in the bed. Literally dancing. He holds my head for support on the soft surface and awkwardly dances while singing.

Seriously?

Did I mention he's 14 months old?

I called out for Daddy to come take my little partier away since I needed to work in the morning and he didn't. He tried for about 10 minutes to get him to sleep which I knew would fail. He had no sleep in his body and was fully energized for a play session.

They go downstairs. No point trying to force sleep that will not come. It's what I would have done too.

Keegan's toy of choice: That F- ing Corn Popper!
Keegan's voice of choice: The Loudest Yells and Calls EVER!

So much for sleep.

I lay in bed tossing and turning hoping for sleep to come through all this racket while watching the clock tick away. I briefly considered just getting up for the day by 1:30. I'm too tired for that crap. I'll just lay here and get more frustrated that I can't sleep.

Then I realized. Keegan is my child. Yes, I know he's my child, but he's really my child. I am not a good sleeper. It takes me forever to go to sleep and I wake frequently. I went years without sleeping through the night and that was long before baby and before Mr. Newman. You know what this means, right? He probably won't sleep through the night forever. He hasn't yet.

I give up.

2:00. Dood comes in with what I imagine to be bloodshot eyes and a weary look on his face. "I'm exhausted"

Yup. Me too. Give me the monster and he can hang out with me til the sun comes up. I'm not getting any sleep anyway.

Well wouldn't you know it. Ten minutes later he snuggles in for a spoon. Too bad he messed up the coordinates and ended up with his foot on my head and his head near my arse. Ha! Not a good spot to be in, buddy. But it's sleep. I drift off peacefully thinking he's got to be tired enough to give me a few hours.

3:30. "I want boob." While he didn't actually say it, pulling up my shirt as he screams in my face is pretty much the international sign for boobs.

4:00. Ok, he's got some warm milk in his belly, and he's GOT to be tired. This should be it.

5:30. Flopping around like a fish out of water and complaining. I ignore him. He goes back to sleep.

7:00. Shit. I slept in. Well, I slept later than I should have. Where's Keegan? Head to arse again and I'm on the edge of the bed while that prime real estate near the wall remains un-slept in. Awesome. Who needs a queen bed with you sleep on an area the size of a small cot?

Since I can't wear sweat pants to work I chose my wrinkly cotton dress that's better than sweats and I have the worst bedhead ever. A little under eye concealer and I stumble downstairs ready to start the day.

Guess who will be going to bed at his normal bedtime tonight?