I knew it. Just when I was starting to get the hang of things…things changed. Helloooooo Daylight Savings Time. Seriously?! Just when things were starting to run like clockwork. Whoever came up with the idea of turning our clocks ahead an hour was obviously (on crack and) not taking care of small children at the time. Because now, when I try to put the kids to bed, they can’t fall asleep because it’s still light outside. And where we had a leisurely hour and a half to get ready for school in the morning last week, we’re scrambling again, trying to get everyone out of bed, fed, dressed, and out the door in time for the bus.
And then, there were the leprechauns. We have Julia’s preschool teacher to thank for this one. Now, every year on St. Patrick’s Day, the kids wait for leprechauns to sneak into our house at night to turn the milk green and sprinkle golden chocolate coins around. Charlie was up approximately 100 times in the night, running downstairs in excitement:
“Mommy! How do you talk leprechaun?!”
“Go to bed, Charlie.”
“But, Mommy! How will I know what they’re saying?”
“They won’t come until you’re asleep, buddy. Now, go back to bed.”
Then, five minutes later, he’s thump-thump-thumping down the stairs again with:
“Mommy! How do the leprechauns get into the house? Do they come down the chimney?” Before I can answer, he busts out his own breathless theory, gesticulating with his little baby fingers dancing around in the air: “I think the leprechauns go invisible, and then they climb up the stairs, and then they’re not invisible, and then they go invisible again…”
“That’s exactly right. OK. Now go to bed, Charlie.”
When I was up for the baby’s 4 a.m. feeding, I caught Julia awake in bed with her flashlight on.
“Julia! It’s 4 o’clock in the morning! You have school tomorrow! What are you doing?! Go to sleep!”
“But, Moooooom! I can’t sleep. I want to see what the leprechauns look like.”
“Juje, they don’t come if you’re awake – they don’t let people see them.”
“Nuh uh, mom – Miss Rachel told us that she saw a leprechaun!” (Seriously?! Again, thanks, Miss Rachel.)
And, as the icing on the cake, Jack has been screaming his head off again. Judging from the fact that he’s been chomping down on my nipples with vice grip gums, and the amount of time that he spends trying to gnaw his hand off of his arm, I’d say that he’s definitely teething.
I’m so glad that I enjoyed last week while it lasted. Because, this week, we’ve got a gaggle of not-sleeping kids. Thanks, Daylight Savings Time. Thanks, leprechauns. Thanks, teeth. And, thanks to me and my big mouth—I totally jinxed myself.