Sleeping In

This morning when McKay crawled into my bed at 5:45, I tried explaining to her that it was the middle of the night, and she needed to go back to bed. Of course this didn't work. I try it every morning, and it never works. When Parker asked me for an alarm clock I exclaimed, "Are you kidding? We have McKay. Mom and dad don't even set their alarm clock anymore."

So I rolled over and went back to sleep while McKay, in typical fashion, sang made up songs and patted my head. By 6:45, however, Parker was awake and in our bed, and I could hear Deacon kicking the wall in his crib.

"Alright," I mumbled, "time to get up and get ready for church." Then I realized something. I could only breathe out of my mouth, one of my sinuses had possibly exploded in the night, and every muscle ached. I started kicking Chris. "I feel awful," he mumbled. Apparently our children's colds had migrated to their parents.

"Let's go back to bed," I suggested to him. We had one little problem with that plan, well, actually three--Parker, McKay, and Deacon. But Chris took the kids downstairs, gave them bagels, turned on Veggie Tales, and fell asleep on the couch. I had the king size bed all to myself. Ahh, bliss. At least until Veggie Tales was over. Then Deacon started banging a container on me he wanted open, and McKay crawled in right next to me. "Let's pretend I'm a mommy kitty, and you are my owner, and I have a baby kitty named Pinky Candy Cane...." Still, my willpower was strong. I was determined to sleep. "O.k., Pinky Candy Cane," I mumbled, closing my eyes. "No! Pinky Candy Cane's still in my tummy! But she's about to be born..." I hear the zip of footsie pajamas. As the first C-section by zipper is performed, I'm dozing out of consciousness.

This lasts for a good twenty minutes before something wet lands on me. Something very wet, soaking even. And that something is Deacon. I'm instantly awake and instantly confused. Did I leave the kids' bath water in the tub over night? I didn't think so, but I could think of no other way in which a child could be this saturated in water. "You're wet," I tell Deacon, as I unzip his jammies. "Wet," he replies. "Potty wet." What? Did I just get a full body toilet water hug? I rush to the bathroom to find the toilet and the ground covered in water. Umm....toilet hug? That would be a yes.