Pieces

Things have been in pieces around here a little bit lately.

I guess not really, but I've got a lot of anxiety and paranoia going on right now.

I think that's a side effect of not having any curtains on any windows in the house at all. I feel like everyone is watching me.

So, I've decided to do my first Friday Fragment post, because, hey, why not. Besides, I can't think clear enough to write a full post because I keep getting distracted by random movements outside of my totally exposed windows.



First: The Curtains.

They are gone thanks to the unreliable subcontractor's inability to ensure that he had all the necessary equipment in place on the day of the window install we had scheduled for this past Thursday. Apparently, despite the fact that they had a 6 week warning, they did not secure one of the integral parts of the job: the windows. They are supposed to come in today (Friday), but I'm not convinced since they were supposed to come in on Wednesday, too. So, I've spent every night since Tuesday in a curtainless house creeping (and by creeping I mean crawling on the floor or leaping, lightening fast) past my bedroom window to prevent my neighbors from spying me in my unmentionables. I'm not traditionally the most clandestine individual so I'm sure they have seen way more than they could ever want.

So, shout out to all the teen boys in my hood who have pent up sexual frustration to spare, I know you're watching and I don't care.

Whew! I think admitting it alleviated some of the pressure so I can relax. The paranoia was taking a toll on me.

See?



Second: Peepee Pants.

#2 wet his bed last night. By the way he acted, you woulda thought he'd committed some major crime.

At about 3:25 am, the perp was discovered, screaming angrily in his bed. The assailant attempted to allude authorities by thrashing about wildly. Even after his crime was discovered, the alleged, who has been previously convicted of similar charges, proceeded to deny the allegations shouting, "I DIDN'T DO IT! I DIDN'T DO IT! IT WASN'T ME!", loud enough to arouse innocent bystanders (aka #1 who was attempting to sleep in the top bunk). We believe his ultimate goal was to create a sense of chaos and confusion so that he could escape scrutiny. The authorities were not so easily dissuaded, and were able to work together to take the offender into custody (aka their bed) without further incident. No one was harmed on the scene. Officer Mom, however, has asked for a few days of administrative leave following the incident. At press time, this request had not been granted.

I'm not sure why he acts all crazy when he catches himself wetting the bed at night. It doesn't happen often (like a coupla times a year), and it's not like I beat the crap outta him (maybe like the first time) when he does it either. It generally winds up to be a winning situation for him because, since I'm too lazy to change the bed, I usually just change the kid and shuffle him off to my bed, where he begs to sleep every night anyway.

It's really me who gets the raw end of the deal, because once he's in my bed, the make-out session begins.

He starts the cuddling and the cooing, the caressing and the canoodling. It turns into an inappropriate-I'm-your-mom-back-up-off-me-you-pee-stained-freak session very quickly. And, it happens every time (which is why I don't let him sleep with me in the first place). If I'm able to shake him off at all he usually just cloys onto my back and engulfs me with his sea of love.

Actually, I feel kinda like this...



Not cool.

Third: Nightmares.

When he finally tired of my playing hard to get, he drifted off and so did I. Only to be awoken again (at 4:55am) by the most bloodcurdling scream I've ever witnessed first hand.

He had a nightmare.

Sleeping snug as a bug in a rug smack dab in the middle of me and Hubby the kid had the most powerful and frightening nightmare of his life (at least that I could tell).

Something about being torn to shreds by vultures?

It took him (and me) a full five minutes to stop shaking and get his bearings again, after which point he drifted sweetly into lala land.

I (and Hubby, but who cares about him?) was unable to do so and have therefore been up since the butt crack o'dawn.

Today could be bad for me (I don't function happily with lack of sleep) and he may find himself wishing those vultures finished the job.

Kidding! Even I'm not this scary.



Fourth: An unwelcome visitor.

We met this little biblical villain in our yard yesterday.



As far as creatures I normally hate, he wasn't so bad, probably only because he was tiny.

Kinda cute in a would-totally-avoid-running-him-over-in-my-car-but-don't-get-too-close-I've-got-a-shovel-and-I'm-not-afraid-to-use-it sorta way.

Those little nut jobs I live with actually had the nerve, the audacity, to ask if we could keep it.

Um, no. I don't do wild animals (or the dead, or insects, or outer space, or adult diapers).

As a matter of fact, I really don't do too many of anything that requires care, defies my mandates, or stinks if I didn't carry it in my gut for some amount of time.

Dogs and cats are a possibility for the future when more of the former gut dwellers are able and willing to care for themselves (I doubt any of them will ever follow my mandates or stop stinking).

Fifth (and Final): Weekend plans.

I'm getting another mini date with my female friends (and by friends I mean Mimi and Bff) to go see the Time Traveler's Wife. Hooray! So excited because I LOVED the book, and I like the actors in the film so I'm hoping it's good.

In New Moon other news. If you were a psycho-Twilight-saga-obsessed-chunky-butt-mom-of-3-with-stalker-tendencies you may, instead, go see Vanessa Hudgen's new film, Bandslam because they are premiering a New Moon trailer at it.

I mean, Lisa Kudrow is in it too and I really like her so it's not like it would be a complete waste...

Bed Buddy

Looks like I have a dilemma on my hands.

For some time now #2 has been lamenting over the fact that he has to sleep alone. The injustice of having to spend his entire boyhood as a bachelor is nearly unbearable.

The other night he had a nightmare that woke him up (involved a maniacal dinosaur who enjoyed snacks of small boys). He crept out of his room where his father found him sitting in the corner, unsure if he should come into our room or go back into his own.

We snuggled him into our warm bed and tried to squeak out the last few precious minutes before the alarm clock rang. But he wasn't interested in going straight back to sleep. Instead, he rubbed my face, he kissed my cheeks, he gave me the tightest hugs you can imagine. Then he began to whisper sweet nothings into my ear.

"Mommy I wuv you." (still workin' on those l words)

"Love you too, Monkey."

"Mommy you the best mommy in the world."

"Thanks, Monkey, now go back to sleep, kay?"

"Kay, Mommy... Mommy, you hair is pretty." (obviously blinded by sleep deprivation)

"Okay, Monkey. Do you want to go back to your bed?"

"No."

"Okay, then be quiet, Daddy has to get up soon."

"Kay... Mommy?"

"Shhhh."

"I wove you, Mommy."

This went on for about 30 minutes. And, while I thoroughly enjoyed all of the ego boosting show of affection, 4:15 in the morning is not the best time for it. And, of course, he drifted pleasantly off to sleep at the precise time that I had to get up to prepare breakfasts, lunches, and backpacks for the day.

Then, two nights ago, I found him snuggled into bed with #1 (who he refers to as Brother). And, last night, again he scurried into #1's bed, only this time Brother was not interested in playing host to his heartfelt shenanigans. He was yelling for him to get out of his bed immediately which led #2 to feel hurt, which led to #2 getting angry, which led to #1 getting punched.

Here is the dilemma: Do I make him stay in his own bed?

I love having him cuddle up with me, but I don't necessarily want to make it a habit, and I certainly do not want #1 to fall victim to his compulsive bed hustling. At the same time, isn't that what brotherhood is partially about? Sticking up for each other, being close to each other, letting your lil' bro climb into your bed and hold on to your hand when he's scared, even if it's a bit annoying (as long as there is no more punching)?

So, readers, this is my dumb mom SOS. Feel free to share your thoughts on this one.