Thursday, December 6, 2012


That pretty much sums up this post.
As a kid, I apparently would "sleep stalk" my parents; I would stand next to their bed, watching them while they slept until one of them woke with a start.

And now, I'm being introduced to a little thing called karma for all those "startled nights" my parents experienced.

Except mine are are more like "Rambo child versus his mother."

Caderyn doesn't like having his room dark or his doors shut. He has two nights lights and multiple toys guarding his bed. He has the bathroom door that connects to his room open with the light on all night and he routinely comes out at night to tell me to leave his doors open and the lights on.
But, when it comes to getting out of his bed, this kid is like an Olympic vaulter and shows no fear at the high speed velocity he is able to propel himself out of bed, out the door and around the corner to my room.

I timed it once, and from the time it took him to wake up, get out of his bed and to my room was 15 seconds. FIFTEEN SECONDS for a kid who is half asleep.

When he did it before and would come into my room, his opening the door with a big KER-THUNK (our house is old) would usually wake me up so I knew he was there.
Lately though, he has figured out a way to enter stealth mode.
The last couple weeks he has found a way to make his footsteps practically silent, his door opening noises uncharacteristically quiet and his bedside stalking tendencies downright creepy.

It could be that I am just more tired than normal. Obviously I've got a lot on my plate right now and I generally fall asleep within .001 seconds after crawling into bed (one of my many talents). Once I'm asleep, I couldn't hear a dump truck driving by a nitroglycerin plant I'm so exhausted.

Anyone get that reference? Anyone? If not you are lame. Here.Squirrel

So that could be the reason I'm not hearing him these days...or it could be something else.
It could be that my child has achieved backwoods-style camouflage and hunting techniques equal to Rambo.
Yeah, I think that's pretty much the case.
So, the other night I was pretty much in as deep a sleep as a single mother of two could possibly get.
Caderyn crept into my room after having a bad dream--perfectly logical reason to be in Mommy's room--and proceeded to stand next to my side of the bed and rest his hands on his chin a mere inches from my face. Then he whispered words to me (I have no idea what he was saying) and booped my nose over and over (it's the biggest thing on my face).

Imagine, now, me. Blind as a bat. Deep, deep sleep. Coming out of a dream to feel something touching her face. A looming black shadow with bad breath hovering next to my face and raspy words being said that are unclear to the human ear.
What would you do? Would you laugh and say, "Oh helloooo people breaking into my house! I have no money or nothing valuable, but you can sure watch some television!" or "Hi demon of Satan! Welcome to my humble abode! Are you planning on overtaking my body so that the two guys from Supernatural will come and rescue me?"

I'm thinking not.

As one who is already routinely paranoid about being alone at night, my guard is constantly up.
So, I did what any normal (and by normal, I mean by Sarah Standards) person would do. I screamed at the top of my lungs and shoved this looming black shadow with both hands as hard as I could.
He miraculously missed the sharp furniture that was within owie range and hit the floor with a sturdy thunk.
Then he started crying. Then the baby started crying.
I put my glasses on to assess the situation and collect my heart, that had jumped out of my chest.
I immediately scooped Caderyn up and between gasps of breath, I comforted him. I rocked him and smooched the top of his head and then carried him back to his room once he had calmed down.
Then I did the same thing for Gabriel.

Thirty minutes later they were both asleep.

And I was wide awake and jittery.

But I did find this.


I put up a barrier of pillows next to my side of the bed last night.
There were no heart attacks.

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