About Last Night. It Wasn't Pretty.
It was rough.
Not only did Jackson wake up a brazillion times last night but once while I was rocking and calming in the nursery I hear a plethora of sounds coming from our bedroom.
First, as always, is the soft rumble of Eric's snores. This sound makes me boil because it is evidence of his remarkable skill.
He can fall asleep anywhere at anytime and can do it within seconds.
After I tend to a crying baby and return to the bed, I lie awake fretting over how many hours are left in the night to sleep and will he wake up again? and did he feel warm?
All tasks that only keep one awake longer.
But Eric? He returns from soothing a toddler only to drift into dreamland before his head even hits the pillow.
So while I was softly singing to Jackson and enduring Eric's boastful snores that might as well shout "I AM ASLEEP AND YOU ARE NOT!" I hear Elvis join the evening's songs.
By throwing up three times.
Anyone who has ever had a dog knows that ... distinct ... unattractive sound.
All my life, I have been trained to detect when this deed goes down. My mother took me under her wing and honed my dog-puking-detecting abilities. Just like a superhero always fine tuning her skills, I am at all times alert to the sound. I have an uncanny ability to detect when an animal is vomiting in the house. I could be sipping wine on the back porch and I will pick up the noise coming from the other end of the guest room.
24/7 I am ready to drop everything, shout "DOG PUKING," rush through the house, collect the animal and safely deposit it outside - all before anything touches the new carpet.
Not to brag, but it is an amazing trait.
So you can imagine Jackson's surprise when in the middle of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star I threw him to the floor and dashed across the hall to swiftly toss Elvis out in to the 3 a.m. night....
It was instinct....superheroes can't fight instinct.
Not only did Jackson wake up a brazillion times last night but once while I was rocking and calming in the nursery I hear a plethora of sounds coming from our bedroom.
First, as always, is the soft rumble of Eric's snores. This sound makes me boil because it is evidence of his remarkable skill.
He can fall asleep anywhere at anytime and can do it within seconds.
After I tend to a crying baby and return to the bed, I lie awake fretting over how many hours are left in the night to sleep and will he wake up again? and did he feel warm?
All tasks that only keep one awake longer.
But Eric? He returns from soothing a toddler only to drift into dreamland before his head even hits the pillow.
So while I was softly singing to Jackson and enduring Eric's boastful snores that might as well shout "I AM ASLEEP AND YOU ARE NOT!" I hear Elvis join the evening's songs.
By throwing up three times.
Anyone who has ever had a dog knows that ... distinct ... unattractive sound.
All my life, I have been trained to detect when this deed goes down. My mother took me under her wing and honed my dog-puking-detecting abilities. Just like a superhero always fine tuning her skills, I am at all times alert to the sound. I have an uncanny ability to detect when an animal is vomiting in the house. I could be sipping wine on the back porch and I will pick up the noise coming from the other end of the guest room.
24/7 I am ready to drop everything, shout "DOG PUKING," rush through the house, collect the animal and safely deposit it outside - all before anything touches the new carpet.
Not to brag, but it is an amazing trait.
So you can imagine Jackson's surprise when in the middle of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star I threw him to the floor and dashed across the hall to swiftly toss Elvis out in to the 3 a.m. night....
It was instinct....superheroes can't fight instinct.
Yes. We can.
No, I did not toss my toddler aside to save the carpet. Yes, I had to fight the urge while singing lullabies through gritted teeth as Elvis wreaked havoc. But toddlers reshape one's priorities.
Priority No. 1: Getting Jackson back to sleep.
Priority No. 2: Make Eric clean up dog puke.
And as for Jackson's sleepless nights?
Not a mammoth to be found. Just wakefulness.
For which I am grateful.
Tired.
But grateful.
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