Oh Insomnia, I Have Not Missed You

Last night was not a good night in the Sleepy home.

When Tim and I headed up to bed, it was after several scream himself awake interrupts already having been deal with, so we knew the doodle would not be staying in his room for long. So I climbed into bed, turned out the light, and lay there. Waiting. And inexplicably keyed-up.

The longer I lay there, the more keyed-up I got.

Tim drifted off to snore-land. And then I heard the pitter patter of little feet go right by our door, down the stairs, around, and down the basement stairs. So I got up to follow, wondering what he was up to. I made it to the top of the basement stairs as he either woke up or woke up enough to realize that we were in bed already. Commence terrified screeching that was nigh-unto hyperventillating.

I really don't need a sleep walker. I really don't.

But I think we might have one.

So I gathered him up, soothed him, and tried to put him back in his bed. No go. So I tried the bed on the floor of our room. Still no go. So I put him in the middle of our bed, got his toes tucked (he's very particular about how his toes need to be tucked), and climbed back into bed, thinking I was now surely tired enough that I would drop right off.

Not so much.

Remember this? Well, that is what occurred, except that I did actually get pushed out of bed completely once and almost completely several other times (I managed to catch myself at the last minute before falling). It was not what I would term "restful".

I guess in some ways it might be good that I was having trouble sleeping, it made it much less annoying when all I could do for most of the thing was hum to myself, "There were three in the bed, and the little one said..."