This was pretty much outside my bedroom window.
I used to be really good at waking up in the middle of the night and being able to function in an appropriate way. When my kids were babies, I was up several times a night, totally killing it — changing diapers, feeding, taking temperatures and treating them accordingly.
But that was a long time ago. Now I can’t be trusted to even walk to the freaking bathroom in the middle of the night without falling down/tripping over my cat/being so out of it that I’m convinced Voldemort is outside my bedroom window and coming THIS close to calling the police. (Ok, I may have called the police once, but I was SO TIRED.)
Recent examples:
1. My kid woke me up in the middle of the night and told me he felt really hot. My response? “Don’t sleep underneath your blanket.” About 60 seconds later I realized maybe I should feel his head. Yeah, he had a fever. And I am the worst.
2. Same kid woke me up in the middle of the night by screaming, “MOMMY!!!” at the top of his lungs. He’d had a nightmare. I bolted upright in bed, barely refrained myself from puking from the shock, ran into his room and yelled, “YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” Realized a few minutes later that I should probably comfort him.
3. My husband was out of town and forgot to turn his alarm off. It goes off at 5 am. Which is pretty much in the middle of the night for me. His alarm started going off, and I got so confused that I thought it was the burglar alarm going off. So I get up and TURN OFF THE BURGLAR ALARM. Like that’s a genius move if somebody is actually breaking into the house.
The lesson here? Everyone in my house must fend for themselves between the hours of midnight and 7 am. Including the cat.
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