The Exceptional Sleep Patterns of an Exceptional Family

It’s before sunrise, and I’m the only one awake in our
house. The thermostat has just kicked in above my head, somewhere in the
attic. There’s a humming, the collisions
of once still molecules, as the water in my coffee pot begins to sputter and
boil in the kitchen.

I have that distinctly American (or is it distinctly male? Or distinctly American male?) satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that
your family is indoors, warm and safe, despite the chilly darkness just outside
the door. Everyone is present and
accounted for, even though it did get a bit confusing there for a while last
night. It would have been amusing to
watch time lapse photography of our movements. Jeanette was the only one who stayed in one
place.

We all started out – the four of us – snuggled up in the
king size master bed, watching the finale of the Next Iron Chef America. Diego was the first to give in to sleep, as
usual. I transported him over to his bed
without any problem. Jeanette fell out
shortly after learning that Geoffrey Zakarian would join the ICA Pantheon. “Should have been Faulkner,” she muttered. As I said, she stayed right where she was.

I then offered to lie down in our guest bed with Jackson
until he fell asleep. (He’d drifted off
for a power nap on the couch while his mother was preparing dinner and was now
energized as a result.) He liked that
idea, so I lay there with him for a time, both of us tossing and turning,
scratching and farting, until finally I informed him I would need to do the
dishes and that he could either stay where he was with the door open, or sleep
in his room, along with his brother, but with the door shut.

After briefly weighing the options, Jackson chose the guest
bed, knowing he could listen to me in the kitchen, which soothes him for some
odd reason. I did my bid in the kitchen,
watching the conclusion of the Ravens-Chargers game in the process.

When I was done, I went back to the guest room and checked
on Jackson who had succumbed, proving there is a God and that He is merciful.

I then went back to the sala
and lounged on my easy chair, where I watched a bit of Conan’s “Best-of”
special before dozing off.

I made my way into my own bed and went to sleep. At some point in what I can only refer to as “the
middle” of the night, I was aware of being crowded, and I could hear the not
unfamiliar sound of an extra set of miniature lungs breathing in my air.

Jackson.

Rather than move him, I chose to move myself. Back to the guest bed. Which was, of course, occupied by our dog
Ally, who will take any door left open by a sleepwalking child as her
opportunity. I shooed her away and sat
directly on Diego, who was also in the bed.
I then carried him to his bed (for the second time, mind you) before coming back and collapsing on the
guest bed one final time.