In The Game Of Life...

J returned home from his conference, and the kids, my clot-free legs and I picked him up from the airport. He's currently fighting off a minor cold, and was lamenting that fact when I gently reminded him that he'd had several consecutive nights of sleep in a hotel, without kids, alone, by himself. dark. peace. quiet. Not to mention the fantastic dinner he was treated to, with a menu that featured steaks that melted in your mouth while I ate re-heated leftovers and doled out chicken nuggets...no bitterness, though.

I've been fantasizing recently about something that is more seductive to me than any lust in the dust novel and it goes something like this;

I awaken in a dark bedroom and glance at the clock; it's 8am. I've been asleep since 10pm the night before and the house is humming with a gentle quiet that only comes when you're alone. I ease myself from my cocoon of warmth and, after walking through the house, I realize that my husband has hustled the kids to the park early, and decided to bottle feed C for the first time throughout the night so that I could have more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep...all without being prompted.

I drink a cup of coffee as I watch the Today Show and check email and then head to a long, slow, hot shower filled with extra shampooing, exfoliation, aroma-therapy body wash, and shaving gel that doesn't have to be applied and removed with a dull razor at mach three. When I get out, I have time to let my hair air-dry slightly before blow-styling, applying make-up and moisturizing head to toe.

Then I head to Starbucks and meet the kids and J at the park, sipping my latte in the brisk fall air as H behaves like an angel, requiring not a single departure from the bench where I'm reading my latest library find.

Alas...

Last night was one of those nights that nothing goes as hoped. J was scheduled to get off at 10pm, but is usually home an hour or so late due to the nature of his work (no, really). I've been waiting to make my exodus to bed until the first feeding of the night is over, as each time I think C will sleep through it, he bellows for me just as I'm drifting off. I decided that this would be the perfect time to start Sex and The City back at Season 1, Episode 1 since the middle of the night seems to be the only time I'll have screen time that doesn't involve WordGirl or Curious George (in both 'regular' and movie versions).

At about 11:30 I was startled awake by a man dressed in dark colors asking if he could take my baby! Wait, it was just my husband who'd found me slumped in the rocking chair with an exposed breast and zonked out child...mm mm, that's a picture of sexy to call forth Austin Powers' 'Do I make you horny, baby?'

Upon his urging, I went to bed only to immediately leave to get another quilt as Fall has decided to make way to it's bully Winter, and the windows in our slapped together apartments seem to leak air like a sieve (must remember to call maintenance!)

Throughout the night, H made his way back into our bed about 400 times, only to be taken back to his own when asleep again. At about 2am, C was hungry...again...some more...so I was in the living room when H decided that this would be the night for him to test whether or not I was serious about him not having milk in the middle of the night anymore. Yes, it's been well over a year since I've allowed him to have anything other than water but he still tried to see if he can trick me now that I'm more sleep-deprived than ever. Still didn't work so he sat next to me with a half-whine/half-cry while I tried to get C back to sleep...annoying. I finally made my way to the crib and just as I laid him down, J brought a yowling H back to his bed...in the same room.

Awesome. I spent the next hour trying to convince H that there are no monsters in his room, and rocking him back to semi-sleep. I'm not sure what the world record for most consecutive times singing "You Are My Sunshine" in the middle of the night is, but I'm pretty sure I broke it. As I was sitting there wondering how long he could possibly fight sleep, it hit me. These years are going to end soon. He won't want me to rock him forever. So, tired as I was, I rocked him a little longer and then tucked him back into bed, escaping to my own and hoping for a paltry thirty minute reprieve before the Dueling Babies routine picked back up and it was C's turn.

This morning I crawled back to bed at 7:30, and nudged J awake to go occupy H who was happily ensconced in Cars with a dry diaper while C took his first nap of the day so that I could enjoy a few hours in the cocoon that had escaped me last night. Tag. You're It! And so goes the game of Parenthood.