It's 5:52 AM....Do You Know Where Your Toddler Is?

I do. She's asleep, on the sofa, seven feet away from me. Ever since #5 equaled 3 about two weeks ago, she graduated to full on insomniac. Told you it was genetic. Earlier in the evening, we went to bed shortly after 9PM. She passed out cold. I, on the other hand, did not. So I made my way downstairs to the office, hoping to enjoy a little quiet time (yes, you can laugh now). It lasted a whole  1 hour and 25 minutes. And then, her mother-is-not-in-the-bed radar kicked in and she stumbled downstairs, homeless alcoholic style, and bitched me out. 

"Why you not seeping?"

"I'm not tired yet."

"Whyyyyyyyy?" (mind you, she drags out her words like a constipated great-uncle)

"I'm just not. You need to go back to bed."

(thru garbled tears, at this point) "Why you mad at meeeee?! I need lovin', gimme a huuuuuug!!" 

So we hugged it out like bros, and I took her back to bed. I laid next to her for what seemed like hours, until I finally decided to check my cell phone for the time. And guess what? It was hours! Three and a half, to be exact. I figured she had to have fallen asleep by then. There was no singing of "Hatsa Birfday" under her breath. There was no game of let's-hide-the-sippy-cup. There was no thumping of the foot. Just small, steady breaths. I sat up. Still no motion from her. I slipped my feet into my booties. Just silence. Then, I rushed thru the bedroom door like my ass was on fire. 

Finally! I made it to the kitchen and still no sound of footsteps from above. Excellent. I prepared a pot of coffee, and enjoyed the sounds of the clock while waiting for my brew. Ten minutes later, I was shuffling my way toward my desk when I heard it. The CD that she stole from #4's bedroom, bouncing down the steps like a slinky. I walked into the foyer, looked up, and there she was. Sitting at the top of the staircase, hands folded in her lap, smiling at me. 

She won. No, really, she did. I popped Mr. and Mrs. Smith into the DVD player, gave her the good blanket and a cup of chocolate milk, and there we sat. And right around the time Jane & John mutually discovered that they were each others targets, she began to snore. Those of you who have toddlers, ever raised toddlers, or plain ole' even met a toddler know that unless the house is on fire with no possibility of putting it out without awaking said toddler know that you never, ever rouse them. Let sleeping toddlers lie, no matter where that may be. The sofa. The back seat of the car. The kitchen floor. Shit, I'd bet Satan himself doesn't have the balls to wake #5 up. 

It's now 6:28 AM. I am exhausted. While she's happily dreaming of kittens and marshmallows and lady bugs. Sleep well #5. For, you may have won the bedtime battle, but I shall conquer the nap time war.

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