Daniel slept in this morning. You'd think that I'd find a way to enjoy that extra time, the little-bit-less chaos that usually grips this household. But no, I can find a way to ruin it.
The thing is, whenever my kids sleep in, I turn into a big fat worry-wart. Oh, it starts out innocently enough. I tell myself "they're just tired," or, "they had a really big day yesterday."
Then it somehow manages to manifest into this "I wonder if they're breathing?" "I can't hear them." "Ohmygoodness. Please don't be dead!" "but if I go in to check, then they'll wake up, and then they'll be grumpy. but what if they're not, you know, sleeping? Oh dear. Oh dear!"
And I psych myself out. EVERY. TIME. So, sure enough. Daniel slept in today. Discount the fact that he's a little bit sick. Discount the fact that he's growing molars. Discount the fact that I medicated him pretty heavily before bed. ADD in the fact that I'm paranoid about SIDS. I mean, I know he's like, what, 19 months now? But that's not the point. The point is, is that he's SICK and is CONGESTED and what if he somehow managed to choke on the horrible phlegm during the night? (I know the chances are slim. But I also am PARANOID. FREAKED OUT. IRRATIONAL. ANDWHATEVERELSEMEANSTHESAMETHING....)
So I decide to check on him. I open the door very softly, and poke my head into the boys bedroom..... Oh no! I can't see him. His blanket is pulled over his head. He must have suffocated. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!
Then I calm myself down. You're being silly. He's just sleeping. He's FINE. He had a big day yesterday. Remember what happened? No? NO! No I don't! Which means it really wasn't a big day. I mean, if I can't remember specifics of what happened yesterday, that means nothing happened which mean he didn't have a big day which means he shouldn't be tired which means, he must be dead!
So I go check again. This time, I tiptoe in there because even though I'm sure he's died in the night, in the off-chance that he's still breathing and all, I don't want to wake him. So I tiptoe over there. I pull the blanket off his head. I can't hear anything. Then I notice that his chest is moving. He's ALIVE! Thank the heavens, he didn't die in his sleep!
Then Daniel notices that I'm in the room with him and I scoop him up, hug him tight, and give a stern lecture about not scaring Mommy....
Please tell me I'm not the only one.
