I Needed a Quickie

Every family has a problem child, and every problem differs from family to family.  Ours, I know, probably wouldn't really be considered a "problem" by most, but as my mood is often affected by the amount of sleep I get, it's a problem for me.

Curly Sue is proving to be identical not to her twin, but to her big sister in every mannerism, habit, and phase she goes through.  The latest is one that I wish she had skipped.  Recently she has been getting up sometime around 5am.  Sometimes it's as late as 5:30, and sometimes as early at 4:45 am.  I keep getting her some milk, changing her diaper, and putting her back to bed amid choruses of her protests and my shushing.

Knowing her latest habit, I set my alarm for 5:15 am Christmas morning so I could be in the living room before her.  I wanted to be able to capture her awe on film, and I wanted to make sure she wouldn't tear into any of her sisters presents.  It was snowing, so I got to capture that on the pre-sunrise Christmas morning.

I heard the rustle of tiny hands on door knobs, and turned on all the lights to get ready.

It was all I had hoped.  The video camera was ready, I got her excitement over the presents and what Santa had left in her stocking, and I did it twice more as each of her sisters came down the stairs.  It was a great Christmas morning.

 And after all the gifts were open, and all the paper thrown out, the fighting over the toys began.  Curly Sue did not want to share her Tinker Toys.  Little Blondie wanted her new Hello Kitty *and* her sister's Hello Kitty that she had stolen in previous weeks.  And The Kid wanted to play with everything her sisters were hoarding.  But we managed to get her engaged at the kitchen table with her "Squishy Human Body" ("for ages 8 and up" - she SO advanced!)

The novelty having worn off the toys in less than an hour, I stood on my feet like a short-order cook and made breakfast for everyone instead of serving the breakfast casserole I had delusions of making the night before.

I had then been up for four hours, laughed, smiled, broke up fights, argued with Hubs over his level of interest in the toys, and checked all my online friends.  The screaming from the kids finally broke me and I'd had enough.  I needed a quickie.

Without a word to anyone, I shut my computer, went into my room, put up the baby gate so no one could open the door and come in, turned on the loud fan in the bathroom, put in earplugs and collapsed into bed for a short nap with a shirt over my head to block the light from my eyes.

Intermittently over the next four hours I was roused from slumber by some shriek, or some deep voice yelling at the shriekers to stop fighting, and I was so glad I had escaped.  Did you read that? FOUR HOURS!  I didn't come back out of that room until 1:20pm - just in time to put the twins down for a nap, feed The Kid some snacks in front of a Shrek movie, and finally catch a moment of peace.

Now THAT is what I call a Christmas Miracle!

What did you think I meant?