The Energizer Bunny meets Tony Montana

Being a parent is not conducive to restful sleep. It starts during pregnancy, when heartburn, backaches and leg cramps wake you throughout the night. When I was pregnant with my son, I had heartburn that went beyond discomfort. It was like a bomb went off somewhere in my digestive system every single evening. I'd wake up from a dead sleep, sure that someone had poured acid straight down my esophagus. I ate Tums like candy. It was awful.

With Molly, it was backaches. All night long, some invisible demon played street hockey with my back muscles. It was also the only time when she was awake. Many nights, I laid in my bed wondering if she would always be such a night owl. That was awful, too.

When I was pregnant with Abigail, I threw up. Morning sickness? HA! I asked my doctor to test me for the Ebola virus, because I was sure some awful illness had taken over my body. I'd wake up at 3am to race to the bathroom and vomit. Awful.

When they're born, it's a whole new ballgame. They wake up and cry because they're hungry. They wake up and cry because their diapers don't have enough of that gel crap (pardon the pun) in them and they're swimming in a puddle of urine. They wake up and cry because they like the sound of their own voices. Babies wake up at night. They do it a lot.

There comes a point where they don't wake up so much anymore, but by then, your nights of sleeping soundly are over. I can wake from a dead sleep if one of them coughs. I believe it's a natural instinct., and I should be thankful for it, I suppose. If there were a fire, or one of my kids were choking on their tongue, I would know it and could come to the rescue immediately. Woo hoo for me, the midnight rescuer.

Abby's well past her second birthday now, so they mostly sleep through the night. Unfortunately, Molly is one of those rare kids who only needs about forty five minutes of sleep to function. I don't dare give her naps anymore, because she'll be up all night long. She likes to talk, and it's what she does when she wakes up, from the moment her eyes open. If there is nobody willing to give her their undivided attention, she'll talk to herself. She's like the Energizer Bunny, if the Energizer Bunny were on crack.

Last night, right around midnight, I woke up because I heard my bedroom door open. It scared me, because it was opening very slowly and making this ominous creaking sound. I looked up, fully prepared to see a man with a machete and a hockey mask standing in my doorway. Instead, I saw a teeny little girl with a fuzzy pink blanket and flowered pajamas.

"Molly, what are you doing up?"

"Hi mom! What are you guys doing in here?"

"Playing tiddlywinks. What does it look like we're doing? We're sleeping. Go back to bed."

"I want to play tillydawinks. What's tillydawinks?"

I elbowed my husband, hoping he'd get up and shoo her off to bed. He snorted, rolled over, and started snoring again almost instantly. Molly crawled up in the bed and wedged herself between us.

"Sooooo, what are you guys doing? Sleeping?"

He woke up. He snarled at Molly and mumbled something incoherent. It may have been a curse word. I gave Molly a hug and instructions to go back to bed. She crawled down from the bed and left the room. I heard the refrigerator door. That's not good. I elbowed my husband again and told him to go deal with her. This time, I'm sure it was a curse word.

Molly came back, this time bearing gifts. "I brought you cheese, mom."

Yum. Everyone wants plastic-wrapped cheese in the middle of the night. "Molly, what are you doing? Go back to bed."

"I'm hungry."

Well, there's a shocker. The kid is a bottomless pit. She's hungry before I get the dinner table cleared. I told her to eat her cheese then go back to bed. She crawled back in between us to finish her snack.

"Daddy, why are you naked?"

That woke him up. He sat straight up in the bed and looked at her. I could see the confusion in his eyes. He was probably wondering what he missed and when we got company. He looked at the clock, looked at her, looked back at the clock and hissed, "Back. To. Bed. NOW."

"Daddy, you should wear pants to bed. I wear pants to bed 'cause if I don't I might pee in my bed and then my bed would be wet and I would have to be cold and wet and you'd have to give me new blankets and what if I peed on my pillow and I like my pajamas 'cause they have flowers on them and I have cheese 'cause I'm hungry and why are you naked oh 'cause your pants were wet, right?"

Energizer Bunny. Crack. I'm so not kidding.

I finally got her back in bed, then I listened to her talking to a stuffed bunny. I heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a dresser drawer. I snuck down the hall to peek around the door to her room. She was putting panties on the bunny, telling it that it had to wear pants to bed.

"Little bunny, if you take these pants off and pee in my bed, you're gonna be in big trouble. I'll make you go sleep with Daddy. He's naked and he has a lot of hair on his tummy."

She's right. It's scary stuff.

She eventually fell back asleep. I went back to bed and woke my husband with a pair of pajama pants in my hand. He put them on backwards and fell back asleep before he had them pulled up all the way, so his entire butt was sticking out. I resisted the urge to smack it. I hate that he can sleep through these kind of things. I made myself feel better by kicking his shins a few times under the guise of 'getting comfy.' He didn't even wake up for that. Bastard.

I'm going to work on finding the formula for whatever it is that gives my daughter this kind of energy with a minimum of sleep. If I figure it out, I'll market it. I'll sell it cheap, probably on a street corner somewhere in the shady part of town. I'll hook you up. Yo. Fo shizzle.

I need sleep.