;alskdjb vjlk4u5p8j …Sorry, I Fell Asleep On the Keyboard For a Second…

I’m tired.  Sleeping with an octopus for three nights will do that to a girl.

Not sleeping with an actual octopus–it’s just a little code between Hubs and me.  The mafia has "sleeping with the fishes," and the Dryers have "sleeping with an octopus."  It means that one of children–usually the youngest–has wanted a sleep partner.  And the way our kids sleep, that means that it’s not that unlikely to find an elbow in your eye or finger up your nose or foot in your groin at 3 am.

You know, like sleeping with an octopus.

Corrie has been the child in need of sleeping help lately.  There was the whole Sinister Flush of Death incident (which really rattled her), followed by a couple of days of spotty thunderstorms, all of which sprung up while she was sleeping.  So she awakened to the sounds of water banging into her window and would screech in horror, "CARWASH!"  (Carwashes are second only to automatic flushes on Corrie’s Scale of Horrible Things.)

Now the child is evidently convinced (with the logic only a two year old can supply) that whenever she sleeps, we hitch our house to a large truck and haul it through the automatic car wash.  She will NOT sleep.  She will sit in her bed and alternately cry and point at the window, convinced the "car wash" must be coming soon.

As irrational as it is, the poor child is terrified, and she will only rest when I’m next to her.  And by "next to her" I mean "sleeping with at least two parts of her body wrapped around two parts of mine."  Last night she fell asleep with her leg around my waist, her arm around my neck, and our foreheads touching.  Because her face is much smaller than mine, that means she was exhaling up my nose every time she breathed. 

But you know what?  I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Nights like the last few are hard, but there’s a real and simple joy in knowing I can solve her problems so easily.  The moment I crawl in her bed and that chubby little body grabs on to mine, her fear is instantly gone.  Problem solved

These are good days. 

23 thoughts on “;alskdjb vjlk4u5p8j …Sorry, I Fell Asleep On the Keyboard For a Second…

  1. elizabeth says:

    We still call our 9-but-will-be-10-on- Saturday son “Moth Man”. Lights off=awake.

  2. Mummymac says:

    I know the feeling, my youngest is 2 and these days when I go up to wake him from his afternoon nap I just get right in beside him for a minute.
    My theory is ir/when he’s 18 he won’t want me doing that anymore!
    Best to enjoy it while it lasts.

  3. Aunt Murry says:

    A simple solution for the sinister flush of death is a post it note. I would carry them in the diaper bag, post it on the sensor and then when Corrie is finished and off the toilet, you can remove the post-it and it will flush without her on it. I would get the super sticky kind.

  4. Jean says:

    I started having “octupus” nights to and enjoyed it for awhile and the hubs decided we needed to start taking him back to bed. We started doing that and he decided if he can’t sleep with mom and dad he’d go sleep with one of his brothers. Now his big brother sleeps in his toddler bed and he sleeps in big brothers bed.

  5. T with Honey says:

    We slept with an octopus too last night. I’m trying to treasure the times when I get to solve the easy problem now because I know the teenage years are sure to have much tougher problems.

  6. GiBee says:

    My husband and I were just talking the other day about how nice it will be when Hunter can curl up in bed with us for a nice nap… now I’m starting to re-thing it… Maybe I should be thankful he’s such an independant child?

  7. Rachel says:

    My three year old daughter climbed into her brother’s bed last night in the middle of the night, nearly pushing him off, and then started screaming for us because she couldn’t climb over him to get out. Argh!

  8. Leah in Iowa says:

    I can sympathize with you! Suzanne has been afraid to go to bed at night recently, and she’s nine! She says she can’t breathe. Funny how she can breathe fine in our room though! It could also be that “big brother and protector” moved out a few days ago, too. Hey – we’re ALL adjusting to that! =(

  9. trina says:

    We have two octopi (sp?) in our bed. Me and the youngest cuddled like you and Corrie and then later I awake to a heel slamming into my eye socket. That part wasn’t so nice!

  10. Brooke says:

    Love that. My Charlotte is terrified of the car wash too. She’s been sleeping with us since Friday. The last car wash visit.

  11. Issa says:

    Hey, I’m afraid of the automatic flush and some thunderstorms, too, and I’m 30! πŸ™‚ Somehow I doubt my mom would let me crawl in now, though. Enjoy your baby! πŸ™‚

  12. Marian says:

    Oh, we had a MAJOR terror of car washes when one of my boys was about 3. Because of it, one day I had to move from the only parking space in the city *which happened to be across from a car wash* to circle for another 20 minutes, and another day I had to take the boy *across the highway* from the car wash -infested gas station where Daddy was filling up. The hysterics were that bad. When my mom was visiting, she asked if she could take the kids to see “The Country Bears” at a theater. Sounded harmless and non-violent. No warning that, in one scene, a bear is sucked out of his vehicle by a car wash! Not good. They should rate movies for CWV (car wash violence) for those of us who need to know! (So now you’re warned!)

  13. Nikkoal says:

    I love this blog. I am a parent to a 9 month old little girl and I can’t wait until I get to have an octopus moment. It sounds sort of violent but I would’t mind. As long as I’m next to my precious baby knowing that I make her feel at ease. As I started to read the blog and the comments that came along with it I laughed so very hard. LOL! πŸ™‚ I think this is one of the most sweetest blogs I’ve ever came across. Thank You so much for posting a cute blog. Best wishes to your family of octopuses.

  14. mom2fur says:

    Little kids are nothing but elbows and knees when they climb into bed with you, aren’t they? But then one day…they are taller than you and think hugging and kissing is a little yucky. I miss the cuddling. So you are right to say you wouldn’t trade it!

  15. Lucy says:

    We went to a restaurant the other day that has a space alien theme. It’s like Chuck E. Cheese, but different. They have a person in an alien costume who walks around saying, well, nothing. But it’s not a cute, teletubby type of alien. It’s seven feet tall with long claw-like hands. My three-year-old saw that and jumped straight out of her chair, ran the long way around the table and into my lap where she was glued for the next half-hour.
    She’s been having trouble at night now, too. Our solution has been music. We have CDs of the Eastern Orthodox church service. We put it on repeat for the whole night (Kenny Loggins has worked, too) and it’s really helped her sleep. In her own bed. Which is where she belongs.
    Between you and me, I don’t mind having her in bed at all, but my Hubs can’t handle the kicking and he leaves. But that’s because she snuggles with her head by me and her feet in my Hubby’s face. So, in order to not alienate my husband, I find ways to keep my baby girl in her own bed. But I, too, cherish the snuggles and do try to enjoy this time when hugs from Mama solve all of life’s problems and fears.

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