The other night -- the night before our fifth and final, out of town, summer adventure, to be more specific -- I found myself locked in another 3a standoff with Django:Is it wake-up time?
May I come in your bed?
Can I have some chocolate milk?
I want to go upstairs!
I need to watch some TV!!
Can you turn on the light?
Even people without kids -- perhaps, especially people without kids, now that I think about it -- know there is only one answer to any question asked at 3a. It starts with a groggy "hunh?" followed shortly by a baffled "what?" and finishes with an emphatic snorting of the word, "no!"
You'd think, after the number of times Django's tried this approach with no success, a smart kid like him would give up. Or at least try something new. To his credit, he does sometimes add the word "really" or even "really, really" to his plaintive requests. But, seriously, if he thinks that's going to be enough to get me out of bed doing his bidding at 3a, he has obviously mistaken me for someone 20 years younger and softer. Instead of having the intended effect, when he starts adding reallys, I start adding cuss words.
There are plenty of nights I fall right back to sleep after one of these stalemates, but not this one. My mind got to wandering. First it started mulling over the list of things needing to be done before departure the next morning -- which triggered much the same reaction in me as Django's diatribe -- hunh? what? no! Then it moved on to wondering if Django & I should design and sew the sheet, blanket & pillow his preschool asked us to bring on his first day of school next week -- hunh? what? no!
Finally, my mind found a happy place to rest in reflecting on how amazingly quickly Django learned to use a potty. I mean, literally, one day two weeks ago he was in diapers and the next day he was telling me -- with 100% accuracy -- when he needed a toilet...What can I say? Some people count sheep. I guess I just need to remind myself to count my blessings.
