This weekend is Tucker’s “drill weekend” so I’m home alone. Cara is with Mom and Oliver is napping and I’m sitting on the couch with Oscar the Cat and my laptop and we’re watching Paranormal State on A&E.
Tucker left last night after he had bathed Cara and after tossing her cranky ass into bed and getting Ollie to bed, I stayed up till around midnight getting some work done. [Yes, I am an idiot.]
Just about the second that my head hit the pillow, I heard Cara screaming from her room via the baby monitor. She was talking in her sleep and calling out “Daddy!”. After about a minute, Cara was quiet and I assumed that she had gone back to sleep.
Next thing I know, Cara is screaming again from the living room and she’s dragging her blankets into the living room but the mass of blankets have managed to snag her bedroom door and the whole mess scared the shit out of her.
Keep in mind that it’s around 12:45 at this time.
I rushed into the dark living room, scooped up the crying ball of Cara and plopped her into bed with me-fully expecting the child to go back to sleep.
I drifted off only to be awoken five minutes later by a toddler hand slapping me in the face. I glared at Cara, who of course grinned through half closed eye lids.
I drifted back off to sleep and was smacked again.
Repeat that scenario about five times before I finally told Cara that if she hit me in the face again then I was going to put her in her own bed.
Again sleep wrapped its nice cuddly warm arms around me and then I woke to the feel of a very small toddler hand patting my face. It was at that point that I scooped the Cara ball back up and plopped her back in HER bed. She bitched about it for about five minutes and I didn’t hear another peep out of her till this morning.
Ollie’s still sick but is being a trooper about the whole deal. I still have to “hide” his Prednisone in his cereal which means that he’s gone from cereal in the morning-if I felt like it-to two meals a day overnight. Luckily he hasn’t had any crazy bowel issues from that big shift.
So, when you’re dozing off to sleep tonight, think of the opening scene of Bridget Jone’s Diary.
Yeah, that’s so me tonight.