Why I'm getting gray hairs already....

Act 1

I didn't think it could hurt to let him watch Thomas in his room last night as he went to sleep. After all, he had napped late, and was nowhere near sleepy when bedtime came. We had spent some good quality time outside playing in the warm evening. I theorized that this was just a special occasion and he could play quietly and watch for a few minutes. I put him down at 8 pm as usual, pretty much just grabbing him as he ran wildly around the house, as he was so NOWHERE NEAR tired.

I relaxed and vegged out - watched American Idol off and on while nursing a mild headache. Suddenly it was 10:00, and I realized his room had been quiet for about 5 or 10 minutes. I knew I had to go in there and turn the TV off. He appeared to be asleep - eyes closed, head turned to the wall, titi sprawled over his chest.

I crept in...
I carefully turned the DVD off....
I gently turned the TV off...

"MOMMY!!!!! WATCH THOMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Crap.

I go over and tell him to go back to sleep and give him a kiss. It works. He closes his eyes.

Success!


Act 2

It is the next morning. Bluebirds sing, the sun is rising, the air is mild and sweet with a cool breeze.

I go in and gently wake him as I do each morning, cheerful and sing-song-y.

And then.....

Out of nowhere, piercing screams shatter the morning beauty.

"MOMMY!!!!! WATCH THOMAS!!!!!!!!!!!! WATCH THOMAS!!!!! WATCH THOMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!MOMMY!!!!! WATCH THOMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Tears fly! Arms flail! Legs kick in every direction. I attempt to dress this thing that resembles my son, trying to stay calm. What happened? Did he just accidentally fall asleep before he finished his tantrum the night before?? Isn't the point of sleeping so that you'll RESET for the next day. It seems like to him it is just time that disappears - just a blink in the day when his evil parents force him to wear the awful things known as "jammies" and hide him away in a dungeon (a cushy dungeon mind you, complete with several nightlights, a sippy cup always full of water, and many many toys).

Finally, after several minutes, I break through to him, knowing that he isn't fully awake, even with the LOUDNESS of the screaming. And we pick out our trains for the day and head out as usual, he with his wet reddened face, and me with the eyes wide open "What the hell was that!?" expression.

Just another day.