A Tale of Sleep (Or Lack of Sleep)

9:00 p.m. It's been about 15 minutes and the kids are still up. Anne Marie is crying because Thomas won't be quiet.  Thomas is banging his Elmo doll on the wall. I take it away. He gets up and starts running around. I tell him that if he doesn't get back to bed, I will take away his pacifier. He throws it in the air behind him and shouts, "You'll never find it now!" I take it off the floor and leave.

9:15 p.m. Thomas realizes the error he made. He believes he has actually thrown the pacifier into some other dimension. When I tell him he can have his pacifier if he gets back in bed and lays down, he cries, saying, "never, ever, ever find Nuk anywhere. Nuk not at home anymore." He lays back down and I magically make the Nuk appear. He goes to sleep.

10:45 p.m.: I went to bed. I never go to bed that early. I was super-pumped, thinking about all the sleep I am going to get.

11:15 p.m. Anne Marie is crying in her room. I ask why- she says because she "wants me." We talk about different ways she can go to sleep on her own, then back to bed.

11:55 p.m. Anne Marie is dancing around in the hallway, eyes still closed and crying. I wake her up enough to ask her if she needs to use the bathroom. She does, then back to bed.

12:56 a.m. Thomas is screaming. I go into his room and he calms down. Back to bed.

1:07 a.m. Thomas realizes I'm gone. He screams, "MAMA! MAMA! WAIT!" I leave him for a bit, but he's revving up rather than calming down, and I don't want to wake his sister (they share a room). So, I'm in there again. He calms down, and back to bed.

1:29 a.m. "MAMA! MAMA! WAIT!"

1:35 a.m. "MAMA! MAMA! WAIT!" This time, Matt goes in. He screams, "NO! I NEED MAMA," then is back to sleep.

1:59 a.m. "MAMA! MAMA! WAIT!" I go in.

2:04 a.m. Thomas crashes. I go to bed.

2:05 a.m. Matt's alarm goes off. He has to meet a shuttle to the airport at 3:35 a.m. He hits the snooze.

2:23 a.m. I hear the alarm again. Matt gets up.

3:32 a.m. Matt comes in to say goodbye. I see the time on the clock, and groggily wonder if he will make the shuttle. I fall back asleep.

6:04 a.m. My alarm goes off. I cry.

I know this isn't the Working Mommy Wednesday prompt this week, but I just couldn't bear to write a sweet letter, or to think of any productive goals. Basically, I'd just love to know that someone else has sat at work in a coma before.