It used to be that Jeffrey slept like a teenager. If left to his own devices, he’d sleep deep and late, requiring me to use a crowbar to get him out of bed for school. Even on Christmas morning, he’d easily snooze until 7:30 or 8:00.
BUT . . .
Somehow in the past couple of weeks, his internal clock has been flipped around, and how he’s up and about at 5:45 almost every morning. I suspect that it might have something to do with Katie’s crying at night, but Brian and I are suffering. Dealing with a newborn in the dark is one thing. Dealing with an overactive eight-year-old is something else.
We try to get him to go back to bed, but he more often wanders around the house, doing odd deeds which we don’t discover until we’re up and dressed a few hours later
Like: taking all the instruction manuals for our Wii games out of their cases and putting them in a pile.
Or: dragging a sleeping bag out of the basement and making a tent with it.
Or: taking the weather report in the newspaper and leaving it in some unfathomable place in the house. It’s always in a different place each time.
On weekends, Jeffrey goes so far to wake up his siblings and then helping them make breakfast. “Make breakfast,” of course, is limited by Jeffrey’s meager set of cooking skills. Last Saturday, Brian and I emerged from our room to find the kids having a “tea party” in the sun room with sippy cups of water, two rolls of Ritz crackers, and 64 slices of American Cheese.
(“Mmmm . . . 64 slices of American Cheese . . .”) <– five points for those of you who can name this reference.
The other breakfast trend is what the kids refer to as “Toast Buffet.” Jeffrey puts in slice after slice of bread in the toaster, and then lines up a variety of toppings on the counter: butter, peanut butter, raspberry honey butter, honey, and whatever jelly or jam they find in the fridge. The kids can put whatever combination of spreads on their toast and then munch down. Evidence of a Toast Buffet includes about seven different table knives crusted over with multiple spready things, a bowl of rejected toast slices, and crumbs. Lots of crumbs. Everywhere.
Brian and I think this is ADORABLE, although, I will admit it makes our household supply of sandwich bread disappear faster than I’d prefer.
But why dwell on the downside? I’m just glad they haven’t discovered the jar of Nutella in the pantry.