Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Musical Beds

As is often the case when one has small children, expressions take on an entirely new meaning from your previous child free state. Musical beds is one of them. My husband and I apply this title when our three children, ages 8, 5, and 3 decide to freak us out and switch beds on us. That is to say, the bed they were tucked into is not the bed they sneak into while their completely exhausted parents collapse on the couch and attempt to catch up on say, adult conversation.

In my house, this happens fairly often. It all began with our middle child, who wanted to sleep in his big brother's room on the air mattress. All was well for a time, because big brother didn't mind. Peace reigned in our house at bedtime. Well. One evening big brother wanted some privacy, so our middle child decided mommy and daddy's bed was a great place to drift off into dreamland in. We simply picked him up when he was dead asleep and placed him back in his bed. The kid woke up in his own bed none the wiser. Peace reigned at bedtime.

Then, one day, big brother decided he wanted to sleep in his little brother's bedroom on the air mattress. Quiet reigned, and all was well.

Then the baby brother decided it wasn't fair that big brother and biggest brother were having all the fun, so he snuck into whichever room the two of them decided to camp out in. Now, you're asking yourself how two adults could possibly not notice a 3 year old creeping down the hallway in the evening. Ninjas have nothing on this kid. All I can say in our defense is that a) we're on the way to sleep ourselves, b) our senses have been dulled by the arrival and subsequent raising of 3 boys, and c) we just might have recalled the activity that led to 3 boys sleeping down the hall.

So the oldest complains that the baby is bothering them and all is not well at bedtime. Pandemonium reigns as we get everybody sorted out and into the bed that they've been assigned when we moved into the house. Eventually, quiet settled on our house and I stopped folding laundry and made my way to my bed to get some sleep.

When I went in to our middle son's bedroom, I noticed the covers were in more disarray than usual. Andrew was asleep in his bed, but he had company. Luke, the youngest, had apparently snuck in and occupied the foot of his brother's bed. I gathered him up to take him back to his bed and somehow managed to open the door to his room while simultaneously carrying a 40 lb. limp noodle and not waking him up. (highly underrated skill, I'm thinking of updating my resume) As I leaned over to lay him down, I realized that Matthew, the oldest, had snuck into his baby brother's bed and was sound asleep.

Not being talented enough to juggle a 40 lb. 3 year old and a 71 lb 8 year old at the same time, I laid the little one down at the foot of his bed, picked up Matthew, and staggered into his room and deposited him none too gently into his rightful sleeping place. Then, I went back to Luke's room, arranged him on his pillow, and performed a record breaking standing long jump out of the room when the little guy opened one eye and almost woke up.

By the time I made it out into the hallway, I had forgotten what I was doing there in the first place. The music had stopped playing and I was the only one not in bed.

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