Dream time

I'm supposed to be running through the park right now, but I'm hunched over a coffee in the basement instead. It was an interesting night. A neighbour dropped over to tell me that he'd noticed a kid on roller blades who looked like he was sizing up the bikes in our driveway, so I spent some time securing them all in the bike garage. Then, when I finally got to bed at 1215, trying to outwait my 17 year old so that I knew she'd be in bed and not somewhere else, I could hear very faint banging noises outside the window. So I spent a few minutes bobbing up and down, wondering when the threshold would be crossed for me to wander the yard in my stylish silk pyjamas, potentially sending insomniac neighbours into paroxysms of laughter. Finally to bed at 1230, and then awake again by 3 to discover two toddlers in bed with me. One of them felt it was time for breakfast because he could 'see light in the front yard'. The other one intent on palpating my kidneys vigorously and repeatedly with her feet. We have a big bed. Our bed is so big that I actually complain to my wife that I sometimes feel as though she's in a different province (ok, well actually she is right now). Yet last night, it wasn't big enough for the three of us. The boy drifted off to sleep for a bit, but dreamed audibly that somebody was trying to feed him 'evil food' (that's what we call food containing dairy as he has potentially fatal allergies). The girl kept complaining in her sleep that somebody was 'taking her spot,' which is one of her deepest fears as she caroms through her day. Problem being: all spots seem to be hers. By 5 I felt like giving up. My son was wandering the bedroom, refusing to accept that all sane people were still sleeping, wanting his 'wake-up' cup, his breakfast, a story. My daughter, frustrated that his racket was disrupting her neurotic nightmares, wandered back to her bed. For 15 blissful minutes, son fell asleep on the carpet and I went into a brief coma on the bed, interrupted by my own odd dream that I was being repeatedly run over by a bulldozer. We came downstairs, toddlers and I, and the three of us made a human sandwich on the couch for a few minutes, until the older kids started to straggle down the stairs. My 9 year old told me she had dreamed that she fell down the stairs and, when she reached the bottom, some kind of animal took a bite out of her head. It made a sound like a crunching apple. My 11 year old sat in utter silence until the time came for her to get on her bike and go to school. This reminded me that she will soon be a teenager, and I can expect days and days of this silent treatment.

Now the sitter is here, calm, rested, relaxed. And I'm supposed to be home from my run and on my way to the office. And to think I have it easy....