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Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Do You Kids Ever Sleep?

This past weekend, we took a road trip.  Stayed in a hotel.  Ate out.  Went swimming in a hotel pool.  Ate out.  Went to a museum.  Stayed. In. A. Hotel.  Did I mention that we stayed in a hotel?  Hmmm.  We did.  All night long.

We had a few days off, and wondered what to do.  Let's do something special for kids!  There's this wonderful museum a ways away (two hours-ish, give or take, but with three small kids, that is not an easy road trip to make) that we've always wanted to venture to, but didn't think it was a good day trip.  AHA!  What if we go the night before, stay in a hotel...do the things our kids have never done before - you know: swim in a hotel pool, jump on the beds, use those little annoying shampoos that never have enough for my insanely thick hair...  YES!  And so we did.

We traveled successfully.  We swam swimmingly.  We ate heartily.  And then we went back to the hotel.   Worst night of my life.  Everyone had their jammies on.  The girls shared a bed.  My husband and I shared a bed, and my son got the roll-a-way cot.  At around 9:30pm, we all climbed into bed.  And then it began....

Whispering.
Talking.
Complaining.
Rolling over.

45 minutes later, I yell, "GIRLS!  CUT IT OUT AND GO TO SLEEP!"

Rustling sheets.
Rolling over.
Moving.

Two hours later I yell again, "OMG, LADIES: GO TO SLEEP!"

Moving.
Rustling.
Sighing.
Fake yawning.
The pitter patter of little feet?

Another hour later I freak out, "WHAT THE HELL, GUYS?  GO TO SLEEP...FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I'M TIRED!"

Rolling.
Frantic rustling.
Groaning.
THE PITTER PATTER OF LITTLE FEET....

Another hour passes, and God-so-help me, I must be the worst mother ever.  "WHAT THE SHIT ALREADY?  CAN'T YOU GUYS JUST GO TO SLEEP?!?"

At this point, my poor sweet son blurts out, "THE SHIT'S IN THE POTTY, MOMMY!  I HAD TO POOP AND DIDN'T WANT TO FLUSH AND WAKE YOU UP!"

I roll over and cover my face with my pillow.  Somehow, amidst the best laughter of the day, we all fall asleep...only to wake up about four hours later; exhausted.  My three wee ones are bright eyed and smiling.  I inform them it's time to leave the hotel.  I'm sure they'll be thrilled to know we're not coming back after barely sleeping last night.  Right?

Wrong!  I've decided my children must be the undead as they never sleep...and had to be dragged out of the hotel.

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