...but so did I.

Because we've officially been kicked out of our room by our baby.

Our baby, one week shy of turning one, who if we are in the room will eat like a newborn, waking for a little snack every couple hours. The same baby, who if we are not in the room, will pretty much sleep through the night.

So our king-sized bed remains vacant, a hostage in our on going negotiation with our children, who have kidnapped any and all hope of us ever sleeping again. If only we could figure out the ransom.

Well tonight, because we left Levi the master bedroom to himself, and after discovering our normal secondary bed, the old double mattress on the playroom floor, "just for bouncing"
(and apparently displaced parents) was full of mystery crumbs, Ben and I grabbed some blankets picked a couch and hoped for some sleep.

It took me a while to fall asleep because I was thinking about the ever important conundrum of "What shall we wear for family photos?" Mentally going through everyones wardrobe like my own personal version of the Bretzke family paper doll collection. So dumb. Not long after I finally convinced my silly brain that sleep was more important at this moment than co-ordinating sweater colours, or trying to remember if McKye had any jeans left without holes, I did fall asleep, for a little bit.

Because anyone who has children (nope that isn't true, I know many of you who have lovely children who sleep very well for you, and well, frankly I just don't wanna talk about it) but the rest of you know that they totally tag-team you. Like they communicate, okay I've been up a few nights with them, and I'm getting real tired so can you take one for the team tonight?

Levi slept, and Aaron must have drew the short straw. He took his assignment very seriously.

He woke up at 3.

And for the next 3 hours jumped off his dresser, flipped on his bed, and basically had the time of his life.

My sister in law phoned a few days ago around like 8 or 9 and asked, "oh, did I wake you?" I thought, is that seriously an option in some households? "Nope, we're good, Aaron's been up since 5...what's up?" "Oh, is he still doing that?" she asked.

Yes he is.

I'm pretty sure he always will. I really have stopped torturing myself with the idea that this could be a "phase" he'll just grow out of.

We'll just be smart enough to one day build him a room above the garage, where he can happily squeal away a night here and there, with less disruption to the rest of the house.

At one point in the night (in between listening for Aaron running a sink over, or turning on lights in our, I mean the baby's room, or even going outside to jump on the tramp!) I'd managed to drift deep enough asleep to have a bit of a dream.

I dreamt that it was the middle of the night and a bunch of my friends showed up. They were all sad about something, needing to chat, needed to cry, needing to eat chocolate.

Needing.

And even though it was the middle of night, these were all girls I love to pieces and I wouldn't dream (well I guess technically I was) of not being there for them when they needed me, no matter what time of day or night.

I woke up thinking of Aaron. I've spent lots of time angry and resentful of his night time shenanigans , and also time learning to accept it, but for the for the first time I recognized in Aaron, not just horrible sleep habits, but a need. I think somehow every once and a while he needs those darkened hours free of expectations, free of brothers and therapists, free of anything but a bed to bounce on and a voice to squeal.

At least now as I lye awake I can compose blog posts in my head, which are way funner than my old "whoa is me I didn't get to sleep again" facebook statuses.

And when Aaron zonks out 10 minutes before school starts, just as the baby wakes up and wants fed (tag Levi, your back in the game!) and I acquiesce to the fact that I will not be able to go out and get McKye some jeans without holes this , I realize there are just somethings I must not be meant to do.

Shop. Sleep. Or have nice family photos.

Oh well shoppings over-rated.

And I'm still hoping the photos'll turn out.

Or maybe we'll just blow up these babies for the mantle: