Last night, I was tucking Gracie into bed when she turned her big, baby blue eyes up to me and said, “Mommy, are monsters real?”
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” I said, gently brushing her hair back from her face. “Monsters aren’t real.”
She let out a worried little breath and smiled up at me.
And then Chris stuck his head in her bedroom door and said, “Except for the ones under your bed,” and then he laughed and left.
So, I spent the next five minutes trying to fill Gracie’s head with happy, peaceful thoughts of the beach and swimming in the pool and playing outside. She finally fell asleep, and I went downstairs to whack Chris upside the head.
About 3:00 this morning, guess who appears next to my bed, crying because she’d had a bad dream?
And guess who wouldn’t budge when I kicked him in the knees and tried to get him to wake up since this was obviously his problem that he created.
We’ve never been big on letting the kids sleep with us. Even when they are sick or after having a bad dream, but this time she just looked so pathetic and I KNEW it was COMPLETELY her father’s fault. So, I pulled her in beside me. Gracie laid with me for about half an hour. At least, that’s what the clock said. To me, it felt like seventeen days. I love that little girl, but she is like sleeping with an octopus. Arms all wrapped around me, legs all wrapped around me, snuggled up into my neck. And, y’all. I don’t do cuddling when I’m sleeping. I don’t want ANYTHING touching me when I’m sleeping. Except for Chris’s feet. But that’s it.
After half an hour, she had fallen back asleep, and so I kicked Chris again and whispered that he needed to carry her back to her bed.
He didn’t even budge.
Grunting and grumbling, I scooped Gracie up, carried her down to her bed, and tucked her back in. And then, about 20 minutes later, just as I was falling asleep again, she appears at my bedside again. Crying again. Because monsters. I pulled her into my bed, kicked Chris for the 4,000th time, and tried to get some sleep. Which never happened because my daughter was trying to suffocate me in my sleep. Finally, I kicked Chris a liiiiiiiiiiiittle bit higher than his knee *wink, wink* and he got up and took her back to her room around 5:30 this morning.
I’ve been exhausted all day. And every time I yawned, I silently cursed my husband under my breath.