Lately we are tired.  Tired because of all that is happening in our lives: working, building our house and living life with a six year old and 20 month old.  Usually, just that would be the tipping point for most people.  Life is tiring.  But then, the inevitable happened.

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Yes, the Judle-Noodle, The Judlebop and now the Very Early Riser has some autonomy.  He figured out how to climb out of his crib, and the first couple of tries were kind of scary.  One day I walked into his room after he had woken from his nap and he had tried unsuccessfully to climb out of his crib.  When I say the attempt was unsuccessful, that’s because he tried to climb out on the wrong side, the side by the wall, and had lodged his head in such a way that he was hanging by his head between the crib and wall.  I quickly decided that there was no time for a picture and got him loose.  That was a little bit scary (and admittedly funny) so we made the decision that safety was priority one.  We would lower the side of the crib to make it easier to climb out, thus a smaller chance of injury.

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The first few nights were great.  He slept fine, we slept fine, and everybody was safe.  Then came the night when, at about 5:00, we heard the padding of little feet.  Jude nuzzled his way into the bed and fell asleep, sprawled out between us.  If you have ever shared a bed with a small child, you know that instead of taking up the proportion of room on a bed that makes up their relatively small body, they spread their arms and legs out and either kick at you with their feet or butt at you with their head in an attempt to get more space.  Covers will be kicked off as the child usually brings his own blanket, and you will be sent of errands to retrieve sippies of milk, crackers or pacifiers.  And you do it all.  Why?  Because all you want is sleep and you will do whatever it takes to keep the kid quiet enough to catch a few winks.  As parents, you cling, shivering with cold, to the edge of the bed, trying not to get pushed off, all the while telling yourself that this is okay.  Who needs six hours?  Three or four will get you through the day, right?  RIGHT?

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So, as the nights have gone on, we have been blessed with Jude’s presence as early as 12:30 AM and as late as 4:00 AM.  We have tried and tried unsuccessfully to put him back in his own bed, but as soon as we get settled and cozy, here he comes again.  When he officially wakes up in the wee wee hours, he tries to rouse us with kisses and pats, pushes and calls of ‘Mama!’  or ‘Dada!’  We are always up and about by 5:00 AM, blindly fumbling about the house with exhaustion, sucking down coffee and diet Coke in an attempt to clear the clouds from our eyes.  I am already ready for Jude to get over this and sleep the whole night through in his own bed – just like he did ALL SUMMER LONG, but our previous experience with his sister tells me that won’t happen for some time, perhaps even years.  Love that boy, love parenting, don’t so much love this.  Sigh.  I am ready for sleep to return to our bed.

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