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Sick, restless kids are no fun.  Sick, restless kids that wake up every hour all night long are really no fun.  K’s normal routine is to go to bed in her room anywhere between 9 and 11pm, depending on the night, and then usually she wakes up between 4 and 6 and sits up in bed and starts the daddy page: “daaaaaddy. oh daaaaaady.  daddy.  daaaaaaaaady, I’m waiting for you.  oh da-da.  Daddy.”   At which point she gets door to door escort service, and comes in and curls up in our bed for the rest of the night.  This is probably not the most ideal sleep situation in the world, but back when getting her to sleep AT ALL was a challenge, this was the best compromise we could make to meet her needs and still get some sleep ourselves.  On top of all that, she still is very attached to her pre-bedtime bottle, as well as a wee bit of milk (bottle or cup, either way she is adamant) when she comes to lay down in our room.   Do I worry about her still using a bottle and sleeping in our room by the time she’s ready for college?  Well yes, I do, but I also know that moving her cheese too drastically results in massive pain and suffering for all concerned parties.  So change comes VERY gradually and VERY subtley in our world. 

Last night, she woke earlier than usual (about 2am) and wanted her wee milk and to come snuggle with us.  She is the snuggliest critter alive, I’m pretty sure.   She is just not a happy kid at all without adequate snuggling, every single day.  So we all got settled into bed and asleep, whereupon she started tossing and turning and talking in her sleep.   She is usually a pretty calm, quiet sleeper, as long as she has someone to snuggle against so I knew it was going to be a long night.  I tucked the blankets around her as well as I could and went to sleep, until she woke up crying and complaining about an hour later.  For some reason, either needing comfort or possibly a little tummy upset, she was demanding to have milk: round 2.  This was problematic for two reasons.  One, she had already had her middle-night quotient, and two, we were actually out of milk (hah!).  Yes, being out of town combined with my crazed Monday-night homework routine meant we didn’t make it to Sam’s Club to resupply on the essentials last night.  We tried to distract her.  We gave her a dose of simethicone gas drops, which usually comforts her (primarily psychologically but hey, who’s counting).  We offered to get her a snack, some water, some juice, whatever. 

When I finally copped to our actual lack of milk, she cried as if I’d cut off her arm.  I blearily tried to calm and reason with her.  She cried.   Finally she calmed a bit (with some sobs for good measure) and went back to snuggle mode.  Yet she kept tossing and turning (and farting), and whimpering about milk.  After valiantly ignoring her antics for awhile, I reminded her that if her tummy really needed it, we would get her a snack.  

K: Ok.  (sob) how about a cheese stick.  would daddy get me a cheese stick?

CM: sure, how about if I go get it since daddy just laid back down?

K: how about if DADDY goes to get it?

CM: I’ll go get it for you.

K: (deep sigh) ok.

(I retrieved said cheese stick and brought it to her in bed.  When you have toddlers, nothing seems weird anymore, even eating cheese sticks in bed at 4am.)    

On the first bite, she started to gag a bit, because she was suspicious that it might not be an acceptable cheese stick or something.  Once she “accepted” it, she slowly started nibbling away.  After a couple minutes,

K: I smell something.

CM and FF: what?

K: I smell something bad.

CM: umm…?

K: I smell something like spinach from my cheese stick.  I’m done now. (she hands me the remaining half)

CM: ummmmm ok.  (spinach?!)  Do you want some water?

K: yes (she drank about half a gallon of water)

K: I’m ready to sleep now.