Sunday Blues

Weekend mornings have turned into a silent power game. Pringles wakes up between 5:30 and 6:00 every day. Like Jim Dear and Darling from Lady and the Tramp we wish we could teach her about weekends, and yes, I just compared my daughter to a dog.

Odie and I both hear her. His breathing changes. He’s fooling nobody.

“Mom!” she stretches the word into three syllables, “I’m hungry!” An invitation to The Big Bed is parental stalling tactic one. She scurries under the covers and nestles her blonde head into the Pringles-sized nook of my neck and shoulder. This is nice, I think. Cuddles.

From here, she announces in a full-volume voice, “Mom? I’m hungry. Mom? I’m hungry. Mom? I’m hungry.” If she doesn’t say she’s hungry for the entire time that she is in fact hungry, then her needs will not be apparent to me and she will starve to death.

“Sssssh! Whisper!” I demonstrate, “Daddy and Viva are still sleeping. Cuddle with me for a minute.” I hope the offer of the ever desirable Mom cuddle time will distract her from her agenda to get everyone up to begin The Fetching of the Snacks.

Game on. Odie is still pretending to be asleep. He wants me to get up with Pringles. I want him to get up with Pringles. Odie can’t go back to sleep after he wakes up in the morning whereas I can go back to sleep under any circumstances. Having babies and breastfeeding gave me an on-call doctor’s napping skills. I can fall asleep in 5 minute increments. I can fall asleep quickly and go deeply into REM sleep. Odie can only sleep when all conditions are ideal. He cannot nap. Should he fall asleep during the day, he cannot recover from it. He will be groggy and useless for the remainder of the day or evening. That’s right, I said it. Useless. I can go from deep sleep to full consciousness to active parenting with very little transition time. I don’t like it. I don’t prefer it. But I can do it.

Odie and I wait each other out. Every Sunday, I plead with Pringles to go back to sleep. The triumph of hope over experience. She does not go back to sleep.

Odie won today. I got up with Pringles, settled her in front of the TV with a snack and then peeked in on him, hoping that he was just awake enough to be unable to go back to sleep. My plan was to deeply empathize and then deeply dive back under the still-warm covers.

The best-laid plans of wives and moms go awry.



About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius
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11 Responses to Sunday Blues

  1. lisasff says:

    This is every day for me… though during the week, I have to make the big one lunch for school, so I always lose those.

  2. Summer says:

    Ipad? works for us. They can get their own cereal most of the time or yogurt or granola bar until I can be bothered to make a proper breakfast (pb+j on hotdog bun).

    • Mrs Odie says:

      The five year-old, yes. The 3 1/2 year-old is the baby and she’s spoiled. She wants Odie or me to hang out with her. Sometimes I can persuade Viva to get Pringles a snack and turn on a show. But Viva usually wants to slip into the vacant Mom cuddle spot.

      • Summer says:

        Are the girls pretty good at entertaining themselves for the most part? Does Viva still nurse? Mine does. I’ve wondered if the cuddle thing comes with that territory until a full wean happens.

        • Mrs Odie says:

          Viva is 5, so that would be some cover of Time magazine shit right there. I know you meant Pringles. She nursed until 26 months or so, and then I was done. I wish I’d been done earlier. In some ways I was all proud of myself, but the downside is she still remembers it and misses it. I have to pull her hands out of my shirt all the time.

  3. Mrs Odie says:

    I’m lucky. He lets me sleep most mornings until 6:30 because he wakes up at 5 with heart-pounding panic. I maintain, however, that he still owes me for 17 + 26 months of breastfeeding and letting him sleep through night wakings for nearly 4 years straight. I still remember the Saturday he took baby Viva and let me sleep in, because it was just the one. He makes lunches, though, so I am grateful. Just not this morning so much.

  4. esmt1 says:

    I realise you’re not asking for suggestions but have a banana on your side table. Although she will just come up with a new tactic, you just might get one Sunday. My husband never gets up. But I’m working on the bringing a cup of tea thing.

  5. esmt1 says:

    Forgot to add, my deal with my husband is I have done all the feedings for years (years !!) and all the sickness and night visits and sleeplessness and are they cold/wet/hungry/sick night time queries. Every single time ;). So he’s doing all the driving around in the teenage years at awkward hours. Sports/part time/school/music lessons. Most especially any late night parties. I might throw in the driving lessons too. I’m looking forward to it!

  6. Nancy says:

    We just trade off. He gets up on Saturdays and I get up on Sundays. Not as bad when you know what to expect I guess.

  7. Lisa says:

    This is funny! Only because it brings to mind scenes in our house. Sometimes Michael and I wait each other out like that. Sometimes he wins, and I get up and think to myself, “How in the FUCK does he expect me to believe he’s really sleeping through all this ruckus?!” Sometimes I win and get to stay in bed, and I must say that he’s a lot nicer about it when that happens than I am when it’s the other way around.

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