Eleven Hours

This morning, Hubby startled me with a hug. He hugs pretty frequently, so it wasn't the hug itself that was startling. The hug came from the right, not the left, so that was unusual. And it was pretty much just his head and shoulders which meant that he wasn't in bed like I was. And he was awake and I was not, up until the moment he hugged me. Slowly, I realized that it was light outside, the morning news was on he was going out the door to his office, which meant that it had to be about 7:15 and the Beans were still asleep.

Eleven hours, my friends. Eleven hours. That has to be a record, especially because last night yours truly also took the opportunity to go to bed early and it did us all a world of good.

Sleeping's been a little iffy lately. The Beans must either be getting more teeth or the impending birthday party has them too jazzed to fully sink into restful REM, and it's making them a little cranky, Pooki in particular.

Pipsi, when tired, will sit with her back up against a wall or other supporting object, grab the nearest tag, hold it about two inches in front of her nose and yell at it until someone carries her to her crib, where she will happily continue yelling at something (crib, sheet, wall, foot) until she falls asleep. That is, if she is free to clutch whatever it is, unmolested, until overtaken by sleepiness. Enter Pooki.

Pooki, when sleepy, is a whirling dervish of mischief and malcontent. Seriously. If Pooki is sleepy she will make Pipsi (and pretty much everyone else) miserable. I'd go so far as to say that Pooki gets a little aggressive. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. What could possibly compel me to label a sweet, innocent baby as aggressive? How about this:

It's 8:42 AM and official Happy Nappy time is 17 minutes away. Pooki is starting to rub her eyes and nose and occasionally issue short, bright bursts of scream, classic signs that she's fast approaching meltdown mode. Sitting in the center of a circle of toys, she grabs whatever is closest to her and tosses it. Where it lands, she does not care. All she knows is these toys bore her and she hungers for something more challenging. Something... alive. Her restless eyes roam the Playground and she zeroes in on Pipsi.

Pipsi, reclined in Zen-like repose against an inflatable tube, is shouting benignly at the tag on Big Bird's butt. The tag is clutched in her little ham-fist and a Binkie is at the ready in her other hand when she feels Pooki's laser-gaze lock onto her and her toys. Pipsi sees Pooki embark across the Playground in her direction at a lightning-fast crawl and Pipsi immediately begins evasive maneuvers. She chokes off her contented yell and takes a deep breath while flipping over and off the tube, abandoning her comfortable perch in search of a safe haven. She knows what's coming.

Pooki crawls relentlessly toward her twin, hell-bent on possessing whatever Pipsi has and vanquishing her sister forever. Pooki pants and grunts and issues a few more little war cries in her advance. Pipsi scoots over to a corner of the Playground, standing with her back to her sister in the classic "if I can't see you, you can't see me" defensive position. Pooki arrives at her objective destination and begins to employ torture tactics in an effort to get her opponent to acquiesce.

First, Pooki acquires Big Bird. With one hard yank, out pops Big Bird's tag from Pipsi's clenched fist. "Mruuuuaaaargh!" Pipsi protests in vain. "Yeeeyeeeeyeeee!" Screams Pooki in triumph. Pipsi attempts to preserve her remaining comfort item, the Binkie, by placing it in her mouth and turning her face away from the invader. Pipsi puts her foot out toward Pooki in an effort to keep the Binkie Thief at bay. Mommy, watching from the sidelines and advancing toward the mayhem says something about another Binkie by Pooki, but Pooki will not be deterred. Pooki sees the Binkie she wants and Pooki shall have it, whatever the cost. Pipsi turns her head toward Mommy's voice in the hope that salvation is at hand when out of nowhere, a wily little Bean hand pops the Binkie from Pipsi's mouth and immediately sticks it into her own.

BinkBinkBink goes the little Pooki mouth, happily wrapped around Pipsi's Binkie. Pipsi begins to scream in rage at this injustice. Pooki answers her by raising the hand with Big Bird and beating her sister around the head and shoulders with the smiling yellow bird. Pipsi drops, crying, to all fours. Pooki lets loose with yet another Shriek of Triumph, also drops to her knees next to her fallen sister and continues to whack her on the back with Pipsi's tag-friend-turned-torture-implement.

Pooki's fun is cut short when Mommy steps over the walls of the Playground, pulls Pooki off of her sister, and picks up a screaming Pipsi who readily accepts the other Binkie which, coincidentally, Mommy retrieved from the floor (yes, the floor-- we're past that now) right next to Pooki. Mommy offers Elmo who fortunately also has a tag on his butt. Safely ensconced in Mommy's protective arms, Pipsi leans her head against Mommy's shoulder and begins yelling around the Binkie at Elmo's butt-tag.

Mommy turns her gaze to Pooki, now standing with Pipsi's Binkie in her mouth, Big Bird in hand, her big, sleepy blue eyes trained on the Elmo doll that is now the object of her twin's attention. "Pooki, don't take Pipsi's toys-- look, there are all these other toys. Here, take Blue Star," and Mommy puts Blue Star in Pooki's open hand.

Pooki doesn't even look at Blue Star. She just grabs it and tosses it behind her, eyes still on Elmo. "Okay, how about Pink Star?" And Pink Star follows her brother Blue Star to an inauspicious resting place behind Pooki. Even the clatter of star on star doesn't pull Pooki's gaze away from the coveted Elmo.

"Okay, then, it must be Happy Nappy!" And Mommy rises to her feet, carries Pipsi into the Beans' room for Happy Nappy, returns for Pooki, and off the two Beans go for a little R&R, only to repeat the cycle scant hours later.

I read some great advice a while ago. There are volumes and volumes and volumes of writing dedicated to making parents' lives easier and I think that the four or five tenets to which I closely adhere were worth wading through all the crap to find. They are:

1. Stick to the "4B's" evening routine every night: bath, book, bottle, bed
2. If you want to sleep at all when they're little, swaddle them for as long as possible
3. Try to do the same or similar things at the same time every day so the babies know what to expect
4. Treat the whole day like one long sleep cycle.

If any of the tenets had to be altered or changed in a day, I always tried to keep #4 as whole as possible sinch it's more of a philosophy and an attitude than a concrete practice. You've now seen what happens during the daily grind and perhaps now have an inkling of the importance of Happy Nappy-- not only for the babies' sakes, but for our own as well.

What really surprised me this morning wasn't the hug, but rather how much a little extra sleep improved Mommy's and Daddy's moods. Because the early-morning hug used to not be such a rarity. Someday we'll get back into the habit and take it for granted again, but today I was glad to have the opportunity to appreciate such a happy gesture. After all, Pooki's not the only one who gets a little aggressive when she's sleepy.