Day 613: Sleep Was Apparently Optional Last Evening

There are options and there are requirements.  For example, watching programs on the electronic media box is an option.  Eating, sleeping, bathing – are not options, at least in my mind, they are requirements.  Don’t get me wrong, I can occasionally go without bathing (yes, it is gross – parents, you know what I’m talking about) and I can miss a meal here or there, too much food deprivation makes me impossible to deal with; however, sleeping – sleeping I consider to be somewhat of a necessity.  The natives, however, beg to differ on that issue.

For the most part, the natives sleep well overnight – sure they will occasionally wake up, cry, cause a stir but eventually they return to their slumbers.  Usually.  And on occasion, I am required to get up out of my resting quarters and tend to their needs.  On occasion.  And some nights – some nights – I get very little fucking sleep.  Why?  Because the natives wake up multiple times, causing me to get up multiple times.

I’m sure those parents out there are saying “My native hasn’t slept through the night yet and she/he is four years old, ” or something to that effect.  So, before you go all medieval on my ass, I’ll explain why my situation is worse, if not the same.  The natives, particularly Tuesday, is a demon.  Well, maybe a devilish little imp.  From the moment she awakens every morning, it’s on.  And, it’s not just on, it’s full fucking throttle, balls to the wall, chaos and destruction for at least twelve hours straight.  So, if she awakens at say 8 o’clock in the forenoon, she operates full tilt until at least 10 o’clock in the evening.  That’s a shit load of full on preschooler right there.  A shit load, in fact, that I’d rather not see again until 8 am the next morning.  Wednesday, on the other hand, is less full of piss and vinegar.  She operates at a much slower pace, however, she feeds off her sister’s chaos like a tiny dynamo that eats, drinks and shits.  The more chaos that is created, the faster the dynamo spins.  So, yeah.  All day, every day with this destructive duo and you’d be looking for a bottle of wine and bedtime real quick.

Anywho, getting back to the events of the evening last night, Tuesday and Wednesday finally gave in between 10:30 pm and 9:30 pm respectively.  Yeah.  Shit loads of fun all around.  And, coupled with the cabin fever they appear to be experiencing, it made for an exhausting evening.  The tribal leader and I retired to our resting quarters somewhere around twilight – in an effort to rise at a reasonable hour so as to be ready to deal with whatever was thrown our way the following day.  Peace and quiet.

1:15 AM.

I awoke to the sounds of Wednesday, whimpering, emitting out of the monitor that was in the natives resting quarters.  Shit. Shit shit.  Maybe if I pretend I don’t hear them, whoever it is will stop and go back to sleep.  Well, the whimpering changed to crying and the crying became uncontrollable wailing – you know, the kind of wailing that you’d hear from actual whales being slaughtered?  High-pitched, full-on wailing.  Fuck.  Now I had to get up.  So, with eyes half-opened, navigating the tribal living area, which was thankfully removed of all toys and playthings so as not to injure anyone running through the dark, and reaching the door to the native’s resting quarters.  I stopped.  The wailing stopped.  I listened.  The wailing continued. Dammit.  I went in and sure enough, it was Wednesday, who was now sitting bolt upright, crying.  I gave her pacifier to her and laid her back down and covered her up.  Quiet.  Thank God.  Sometimes I’m not so lucky and the process of soothing the native takes much longer.  But for now, quiet.  I retreated back to my resting quarters.

It took me a while to get back to sleep – it’s almost as though an hour to forty-five minutes of sleep gave me the equivalent of a full pot of coffee – wide fucking awake.  I shut my eyes hoping that I’d drift back to sleep.  Nothing.  Ugh. Finally, I fell asleep nearly an hour later, which was again, short-lived.

4:20 AM.

I am a light sleeper – it’s a blessing and a curse.  A blessing, in that I’ll hear most anything going on in the tribal abode that probably shouldn’t be.  A curse, in that I’ll hear most anything going on in the tribal abode that probably shouldn’t be.  Thus, I awoke to the sounds of footsteps, small footsteps in the food preparation area, accessing the mechanical cooling apparatus.  I immediately leapt from the bed and proceeded, half asleep, to where Tuesday was standing, with the door to the mechanical cooling apparatus wide open, looking disoriented.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I want a drink,” she replied.

“Where’s your cup?” I inquired.  Shrugs.  Crickets. Of course.  No fucking idea where it is.  I’ll go in her resting quarters tomorrow and find three half full sippy cups.

I fumbled around, still half asleep but waking up, in the dark (because with the light on I’d be blinded like a freakin’ bat) and found her a cup.  I then got the water when she interrupted me.

“No, I want juice!” she demanded.

“You know that we always give you water for bed.  That’s the rule.” I replied, continuing with the water.  She then proceeded to cry and wail, much like her younger sibling about wanting juice.  At 4:30 in the morning.  About fucking juice.  I admonished her, sternly, that she could have the water or nothing and she promptly took the water and returned to her resting quarters, whimpering.  I tucked her back in her bed and admonished her to stay quiet so as not to wake Wednesday.  That would be all I needed.

She went back to sleep, with a little more whimpering and so did I.  After about half an hour.

6:50 AM.

Even more groggy than the previous two times I had woken overnight, I awoke once again, to hear Tuesday wailing and carrying on about her toe.  Her toe hurt.  Once I emerged from our resting quarters once again, I found her standing on the couch, watching our door.  Like a hawk.  Crying.  Carrying on.  About her fucking toe.  The door to their resting quarters was wide open, I thought to myself, I need to get that fucking door closed.  Then I’ll deal with her.  I got it closed, Wednesday was still asleep.  Good.  I then returned to deal with Tuesday the Infirmed.

After settling her down and getting her something for her “toe injury”, she asked if she could remain on the reclining tribal furniture.  I figured that would be acceptable and tucked her in there. I informed her that I was going back to my resting quarters and that she needed to remain there and be quiet.  She then informed me that she wanted to come into our resting quarters, which I promptly denied her.

If there were such a thing as a child explosion, this would have been it.  Tuesday completely lost her shit, complete with hyperventilation, crying, wailing, carrying on, civil disobedience – you name she gave it to me.  She frequently demanded the tribal leader’s presence, which after this episode, I said, screw it.  I’m going to get her.  And I did.  And once the tribal leader was out with her, the waters parted, the skies cleared, choirs of angels sang.  Yeah.  It was that fucking epic.  Tuesday quieted down and fell back asleep.  Within minutes of the tribal leader soothing her.  What the fuck?

I returned to our resting quarters and never returned to sleep.

I am currently researching the feasibility of intravenously pumping coffee into my blood stream.  Meanwhile, I’ve consumed nearly ten cups of the magical elixir.  And it’s only noon time.

As for the natives, well, they haven’t missed a beat.  Like I said, it’s full throttle, balls to the wall, maximum overdrive.  Until later. Much later…

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