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.)
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.