I figure the level of hierarchy in this house is something like this.
My Husband – he is supporting the house after all. Me – obviously. The children and then the dogs.
In an ideal world, it would be like this every day.
Unfortunately, when the children get sick, the hierarchy is altered somewhat and I become their employee… or bitch, if you will! It has to be done. They are sick. Feverish with nasty coughs and all that goes with it.
As an employee, I feel the usual thrill in accomplishing something for my Elfen bosses… putting on their favorite show, getting them their favorite milk cup, snuggling them to better health. And honestly, it is somewhat easier around here when they are sick. We don’t have to spend the day outside – though it is gorgeous – painting, riding bikes, playing soccer, swinging and whatever else we can cram into a day!
I can play on the computer guilt free!
However, they are not the greatest bosses to have all of the time. And after the second night in a row of my being up all night long dealing with sick, sicker, and sickest, I have written a letter to those in charge!
Dear Unreasonably Demanding Tots,
I need sleep.
Not sleep like barely dozing off and then you come in, rock me to make sure I am up, and then ask me to take you back to your room, sleep – Katie.
Not, Mommy I want more milk 5 times a night, sleep – Sarah.
Not, WAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAA, sleep – Megan.
The kind you get when you put your unwashed hair on the needs to be washed pillowcase that you promise you’ll get to tomorrow, close your aging more rapidly that you would like eyes, put all problems – sick kids, money, back spasms – to the back of your mind and drift off into a peaceful, too tired to dream, slumber.
The kind of sleep that keeps me able to pick you up, get your food, get your water, fix a toy, put on a show, wipe your booty, change your clothes, draw a picture with you, bathe you, and any other need that might come up the first hour of everyday.
The kind of sleep that allows me to awake re energized, ready to take on the world, and ready to think that putting the same 24 piece puzzle together with you for the 85th time is fun.
Currently, your being up all night long with various needs and whines, has left me aggravated, exhausted, unable to make good dietary decisions – sorry Oreo – thus remaining unpleasantly chunky, unable to leap over your toys in a single bound, and not at all concerned about giving you popcorn for breakfast.
I have no desire to turn off the TV and read you a good book, lest I fall asleep in the middle, make your favorite lunch – mac and cheese – or function in any productive way at all.
So, I ask, oh demanding children who will be written out of my will if you keep me up again tonight, that you cut your Mother a break. I am not asking for much. One night of six solid, blissful, uninterrupted hours of sleep will return me to the Mother that you have grown to love and challenge on a daily basis.