Posts Tagged "sleep"

“But Parents Don’t GET Tired”

Dear Kid,

You in my head (YIMH): You didn’t post anything today
Me: mrrrffphr
YIMH: Mom, this is a DAILY blog. That involves posting daily
Me: mmmrrrrphrrrr… coffee….
YIMH: Hello? Mother? Are you paying attention? It’s mid-afternoon
Me: I just woke up
YIMH: You slept even later than I did?
Me: Apparently so
YIMH: Parents aren’t supposed to sleep that late
Me: There’s a rule?
YIMH: It’s just Supposed to Be That Way
Me: Yeah no. Parents are allowed to sleep whenever they can
YIMH: So why did you sleep so late?
Me: I was tired?
YIMH: Parents don’t GET tired
Me: Now you’re just being ridiculous
YIMH: I love you, Mom
Me: Love you too, kiddo
YIMH: Do better tomorrow
Me: I’ll certainly try

Love, Mom

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The Alarm Clock and I Discuss Appropriate Morning Behavior

Dear Kid,

The Alarm Clock and I discuss appriopriate morning behavior. DearKidLoveMom.comThe Alarm Clock: Time to get up
Me: …
The Alarm Clock: Time to Get Up
Me: mrrpphrrm
The Alarm Clock: TIME TO GET UP
Me: mrrphrnn mmmrrph
The Alarm Clock: TIME TO <snooze>

 

The Alarm Clock: Time to get up
Me: Not yet
The Alarm Clock: Time to Get Up
Me: No thank you
The Alarm Clock: TIME TO GET UP
Me: I’m considering unplugging you
The Alarm Clock: TIME TO <snooze>

 

The Alarm Clock: Time to get up
Me: Don’t want to
The Alarm Clock: Doesn’t matter. It’s really time to get up.
Me: You’re fairly obnoxious
The Alarm Clock: And you’re a pile of roses in the morning. Get up
Me: Stop being cheerful
The Alarm Clock: Have you always been a morning person? Get up
Me: I need sleep
The Alarm Clock: Time to <snooze>

 

The Alarm Clock: Time to get up
Me: Yeah, yeah
The Alarm Clock: Time to get up
Me: I’m up, I’m up
The Alarm Clock: Except for the getting up part. Get up
Me: I’m awake
The Alarm Clock: You keep going back to sleep
Me: You say it like that’s a bad thing
The Alarm Clock: It. Is. Time.
Me: Really? At this hour of the morning? You’re quoting Lion King?
The Alarm Clock: Whatever works
Me: I need coffee

Love, Mom

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It’s Hard Being a Mom When Your College Kid is Sick

Dear Kid,

It’s hard when your college kid is sick.

Let me back up. It’s hard when your kid is in college. But it’s even harder when said child isn’t healthy.

When you’re home, I can baby you for a day, refill your glass with apple juice, tuck blankets around you, serve you chicken soup, and tell you not to worry about your homework—just get some sleep. After 24 hours, I have generally ruled out most Major Illnesses and then nudge you back to health and activity. Don’t all mothers say, “I understand you have a cold. Here’s a tissue. Get your homework done and take out the garbage.”?

It's hard being a mom when your college kid is sick. DearKidLoveMom.comBut when you’re at college, I can’t do much. I can’t kiss your forehead to see if you have a fever (forehead kissing is much more accurate than a thermometer or “Mom, I’m fine”), I can’t insist you drink more (let’s face it—“insisting” by text only goes so far), and I can’t check on you whenever I want to make sure you’re still breathing.

I can’t do the check-on-you-mom-thing. I can’t do the take-care-of-you-mom-thing. I can do the put-money-in-your-account-to-pay-for-antibiotics-and-Nyquil-thing but that’s more of a banking function than a mom function.

Which leaves the fretting-mom-thing and the texting-mom-thing neither of which are as effective as chicken soup.

It’s very hard to be a mom when your college kid is sick.

Hope you’re feeling better, kiddo.

Love, Mom

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What You Don’t Know About G. W. Himself and the Washington Monument

Washington MonumentDear Kid,

I’m guessing that since you are spending your time on collegiate pursuits like studying (maybe?), going to basketball games, playing flag football, and sleeping, you have not had sufficient time to contemplate the Washington Monument.

Not to worry. I am here—as usual—to rectify the situation.

Are you familiar with the military term BLUF? It’s a concept I learned many millennia ago, but didn’t know it had a cool military acronym until recently. BLUF = Bottom Line Up Front. In other words, tell me the point and then you can go back and fill in the details and if it’s absolutely necessary I may keep reading.

The point: On December 6, 1884, the Washington Monument was completed.

We now return to the Interesting Story.

Once upon a time (as I continue to believe all good stories should begin), there was a baby country in the throes of Revolution. There arose a Great Leader with Bad Teeth (G. W. himself) who led the country to military victory, became the first President of the new Republic, and earned the title “Father of Our Country.”

We The People thought this was quite terrific and decided there should be a statue of G. W. himself. Well, Congress decided but since Congress represents We The People….(excuse me while I giggle helplessly for a moment).

When Pierre L’Enfant laid out the new federal capital area (1791), he left a Spot for the statue. And because Congress was in charge, nothing happened.

Fast forward to 1832 (33 years after G. W. himself died) when the National Monument Society was formed. They held a contest to determine the design of the statue and chose a Greek-temple-ish design. Then they began to raise money. While they raised a fair amount (it was 1832 you’ll remember), the $230K they raised was nowhere near the $1 million they needed. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Because it was Washington, DC, they began construction anyway because why not? By the time they laid the cornerstone (a 24,500 pound block of pure white marble), it was 1848.

Six years later, they ran out of money and everything came to a grinding halt.

Then in 1876, 100 years after the country was founded), President Ulysses S Grant (who would later be found in Grant’s tomb) said WTF? and got things moving again.

Somewhere along the line the design went from Greek-temple-ish to big column of marble and on December 6, 1884, workers placed the 9 inch aluminum pyramid at the top and called it a completed statute.

It looks exactly nothing like G. W. himself, but is quite a nice tribute nonetheless.

The monument (to G. W. himself) is made of 36,000 blocks of marble and granite and towers 555 feet high. This is taller than I am. There is a city law (passed in 1910) that says that no buildings in DC can be taller than the monument.

You may now return to your previously scheduled studying (I hope), going to basketball games, playing flag football, and sleeping.

Love, Mom

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Puppy Conversations (Sort of) | The Sleep Challenge (Mine)

Dear Kid,

It was a long, long night.

I was awakened at 1:30am by “rrrrr..rwo-arf! rrrrr..rwo-arf! rrrrr..rwo-arf!!”

To be clear, there aren’t many things I can think of that warrant being woken up at 1:30am. Perhaps, “Mom, I won the election for President of the United States!” or “The baby’s been born” but other than those I can’t think of much.

Even “I have a plate of fabulous chocolate for you” can wait until a more reasonable hour, chocolate shortage notwithstanding.

So “rrrrr..rwo-arf! rrrrr..rwo-arf! rrrrr..rwo-arf!” didn’t even make my top 10 list.

After several minutes, I got (groggily) out of bed, stumbled over to the window, and looked out. I expected to see a herd of deer holding an Occupy meeting or possibly a squadron of attack drones. I saw absolutely nothing.

I therefore did what all good moms do: I ignored the puppy (the barking had stopped when I got up) and collapsed back into bed.

Exactly what the puppy didn't look like last night. DearKidLoveMom.com1:47 am

“RRRRWWWooooof! rrrrr..rwo-arf! Wooof Woooof WWWWWoooooffffff!”

I pried an eyelid open. Dad really needed to sleep, so I kindly did not put my foot in the middle of his back and push. Downstairs, the puppy switched from barking to whining when he heard me.

Me: What?
Puppy: Wwooof! Woof!
Me: There will be no barking. What do you need?

I expected him to charge out of his cage. He sauntered. Then he trotted over to get a toy.

Me: Seriously? Show me what you want.

The puppy made sure I followed him as he trotted happily through every room on the first floor.

Me: The middle of the night and you resort to canine-speak? The one time when it would really be helpful for you to talk to me?

So I took him for a walk. It’s cold at 2am in December. There didn’t seem to be any urgency on his part, although he did spend extra time sniffing around our mailbox.

I took him inside, told him he’d been a good doggy for utilizing the outdoors to the fullest extent, put him back to bed, then put myself back to bed.

2:15 am

“Yip!”

“Yip! Yip!”

“Yip!!!”

I went back downstairs. This time he was clear.

Puppy: You put me away without breakfast
Me: It’s the middle of the night. No breakfast
Puppy: I would like breakfast
Me: I would like to sleep. Guess who wins?

So I curled up on the sofa, the puppy curled up on his favorite pillow, and we slept.

I’m still wondering if he heard something outside, if his clock was off, or if he just wanted to sleep on his pillow.

Doesn’t really matter. I explained that this was not a game I approved of and we ran him like crazy today to tire him out.

I hope. Must. Go. Sleep.zzzzzzzzz

Love, Mom

For more puppy conversations see

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