A Bedtime Story

Scene:  Our house, bedtime.  Lights were out.  Books had been read.  We'd settled in for the bedtime story.

Matt asked Mark what he'd like to hear a story about.  Mark said:  Animals.  Rabbits, squirrels, and birds maybe.  Ok, Matt said.  Then he began.  This is the story he came up with, off the top of his head, without any hesitations or delays before or during the story.

Once upon a time, there was a tree.  Squirrels lived in the trunk of the tree, rabbits lived in a hole under the tree, and birds lived in the branches.  They all lived happily, playing together. 

Then one day, the squirrels decided they didn't want to share their tree anymore.  They ran down to the hole under the tree and chased out the rabbits.  Then they ran up to the branches of the tree and chased out the birds.  Then they ran up and down the tree trunk all day, playing in the branches and even the hole underneath.  It was really fun... at first.  But after a while they started to get bored.  When they wanted to play a new game, they only had squirrel games to play and only squirrel ideas of what might be fun.  They started wishing the birds and rabbits would come back.

"But how will we get them to come back?" a squirrel asked.  "I know," said another squirrel, "we can write a message on some acorns, and throw those acorns out into the woods.  Then the rabbits will see the message and come back."  "Great idea," said the first squirrel. 

So they wrote a message on the acorns, threw them out into the woods, and waited.  After a little while a rabbit picked up one of the acorns, saw the message, and said to one of his rabbit friends (in a low voice, with a New York cabbie-ish accent):  "Hey did you see this note from the squirrels?  They want us to come back to the tree!"  So the rabbits talked about it and decided to move back to the tree.

The squirrels were happy to see them, and they started running around and playing in the tree together.  But they all still missed the birds.  So the squirrels left the tree and went far, far away from the tree and even the whole forest.  They went to a place where they could rent a small airplane capable of skywriting.  (An aside:  Mark, do you know what skywriting is?  And a brief explanation).

The squirrels went up in the airplane and wrote a message to the birds, in the sky.  It said:  DEAR BIRDS:  PLEASE COME HOME TO THE TREE.  WE MISS YOU.  WE ARE SORRY WE MADE YOU LEAVE.  LOVE, THE SQUIRRELS.

It didn't take long before one of the birds saw the message in the sky.  He said to his bird friend:  (whistling).  And they his bird friend replied:  (whistling).  So they flew off toward the tree.

When they got there, the squirrels said:  "We're so sorry for being mean to you and making you leave the tree."  And the birds replied:  (more whistling).  And then the birds moved back in.

So then the birds, rabbits, and squirrels all played and played in the tree.  Sometimes they played squirrel games, sometimes they played rabbit games, and sometimes they played bird games.  And everyone was happy.  The End.

Quotation Mark Mondays: Naps

"I wish there was no such thing as naptimes in the world."
                                     -  Mark, upon waking up from his nap

Quotation Mark Mondays: In your dreams

(Sitting in bed)
"When do I get to the dream part of sleeping?"

Mark of Fridays Past: Bedtime Routine

We've gotten into a bedtime routine in which we read three books, tell Mark a story (usually one Matt makes up on the spot), and sing three songs.  He picks the songs, so it's usually the same three or four songs, over and over.  He also asks us to change the words to some of the songs to make them, in his mind, more suitable for bedtime.

For example, "How much is that doggie in the window?" must be sung three times, one verse for each of the dogs Mark knows best:  Jack, Cole, and Charlie.  Each verse should describe the color of the dog in question.  Sometimes for extra fun, he requires that we sing the whole song in Spanish.

In "Playmate," Mommy Elmo has the flu, not a dolly.  And they don't slide down a cellar door.  It's a slide.

Sometimes "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" would be better if we changed it to "Take Me Out to the Softball Game" and the words altered to fit a description of the Beacon-News Softball tournament that Mark attended a few weeks back.  It's important that instead of peanuts and crackerjacks they go to McDonald's afterward (like Mark did) and have french fries.

But the best is "Animal's Fair."  In case you don't know it, the real lyrics are as follows:
We went to the Animal's Fair
The birds and the beasts were there
The old baboon by the light of the moon
Was combing his auburn hair
The monkey, he got drunk
He sat on the elephant's trunk
The elephant sneezed
And fell to his knees
And that was the end of the monk, the monk.

And here's the version Mark insists that we sing at bedtime, after realizing that the original version is not so kind on the monkey:
We went to the Animal's Fair
The birds, the beats, the lions, and the elephants were there
The old baboon by the light of the moon
Was sitting in his own cage.
The monkey, he got drunk
He sat on the elephant's trunk, which was sticking out a little into his cage
The elephant sneezed
And fell to his knees
And no one got hurt because they were all in their own cages!

Mark of Fridays: Mommy Elmo

Mommy Elmo is Mark's favorite Guy.  All of the other Guys - Murray, Grover, Knuffle Bunny, and Baby Elmo - are required to be in the bed if Mark is going to do any sleeping.  He talks to them, sings them songs, and tells them stories (sometimes for hours) as he's falling asleep.  If a Guy falls (or jumps) out of bed in the process, Mark yells until Mommy or Daddy comes in to retrieve him.

From left to right: Mommy Elmo, Mark, Baby Elmo

But Mommy Elmo (so named because she's bigger than, and is clearly the mommy of Baby Elmo) is special. Mark sleeps with her tucked under him, as if he's afraid she'll escape. And if we let him, he takes her everywhere: in the sandbox, down slides, to the zoo.

Needless to say, Mommy Elmo is very dirty.  Her fur is matted and brownish.  Her eyes - once white - are gray. 

She's so gross that strangers comment on her.  They tell their children not to touch - that Elmo is so dirty.  One mother asked if Mommy Elmo was a hand-me-down, in disbelief that Mark could've done so much damage to her in his short, toddler lifetime.

But we can't wrestle her off Mark for long enough to give her a bath.  Plus, he says, Mommy Elmo is afraid of the dryer.

Then, on Monday night, Mommy Elmo was forgotten at Grandma's.  Matt packed her in Mark's bag for the day, then Lynne left the bag at Grandma's house.  We realized our mistake at bedtime, when Mark said she was missing.


Mark and Mommy Elmo, participating
in one of the activities that
made her prematurely gray.


We searched the house, hoping she was hiding somewhere.  No dice.

We told Mark that all of the other Guys could keep him company, just this once.  He wailed.

Lynne said that Mommy Elmo had asked to sleepover at Grandma's because Grandma needed a Guy to snuggle.  He screamed 'No!', kicked, screamed, and cried. 

"Tell Grandma to bring her here!" he yelled.

Matt told Mark an elaborate story about his own favorite toy, Humpty Dumpty, and how he sometimes let Humpty stay with Aunt Megan when she was a little girl. 

"So she won't be alone?"  Mark asked, tears welled up in his eyes. Yes, just like Mommy Elmo was helping Grandma to not be alone. Then Mark cried that he was alone and wanted Mommy Elmo right now.

By this point it was clear that Mark would not go to sleep without Mommy Elmo.  Lynne called Grandma and arranged to meet up, so we could bring Mommy Elmo home.  The Mommy Elmo hand-off was done in a Walgreens parking lot.  It took 20 minutes, round trip.

Mark was still awake when Lynne got home, talking away. 

"Mommy Elmo!" he said.  He did a deep sigh, then tucked Mommy Elmo underneath him.  "Now I am happy." 

---

"Did you really share Humpty with your sister when you were a kid?" Lynne asked, when she got back downstairs.

"No way," Matt replied.  "But he doesn't know that."

Mark of Fridays: Big boy bed

Mark likes his big boy bed!

Mark of Fridays: Your snooze, your rules

Sometimes you just can't stay awake another minute.

Bonus pic: Mark of Thursdays!

What you can't see in this picture is that there's an even tinier person behind Elmo. And even smaller muppet behind that tiny person.

And so on.

Mark of Fridays: Sleepy time

So, when the public finds out you had a baby, they all want to know: is he sleeping well?
Well...that's a tough question. Is Mark sleeping well? He closes his eyes when he sleeps. And he doesn't try any sleepwalking. So, that's good because walking around with your eyes open does not qualify as sleeping well.
But, it's fair to say everyone is still figuring out good sleep. On Sunday night, Mark slept for SEVEN STRAIGHT HOURS. Lynne and Matt were shocked. They started to get excited. Had he figured it out already? Were they on Easy Sleep Street in less than a month?
Well, the next night Mark slept for about an hour straight. Lynne's been trying to help out as much as she can because Matt's back at work. But it's led to some long, strange nights. Consider: At around 2:30 a.m. Thursday morning, Mark puked all over Lynne's shirt. Nasty, gross smelling puke. So she thrust Mark into Matt's semi conscious arms while she ran around gagging. It is not underestimating to say Matt was thoroughly confused.
Matt is having enough problems without these mid-night gag-and-puke fests. At least once or twice an evening Matt sits straight up in bed, convinced he just dropped Mark out of his arms. Matt starts scrambling around the bed, pulling up covers, looking under pillows...until Lynne has to convince him that Mark is just fine and she forces him to look in the car seat. (Yes, he's still sleeping in his car seat.)
And...earlier in the puke-and-gag night, Lynne woke up to find Matt burping her belly in his sleep. She really appreciated that. And at some point Matt stubbed his toe so badly it was bleeding.
So, anyhow, back to Matt holding puke-covered Mark. They're both disoriented and one of them is crying. (Your guess on which one.) Eventually, everything gets sorted out. Mark goes back to sleep and Lynne gets a new shirt.
But in the morning, Matt wakes up ... in another room! Sleeping on a recliner! He doesn't remember when or why he went into that room. And they don't even have a recliner!
OK, they do have recliner, but that would have been really crazy if they didn't.
So, in honor of bedtime, enjoy two pictures of Mark sleeping. And if look very closely (it's on the letter 'I'), you can see the chocolate ice cream that fell on Matt's shirt as he ate over his child's head. Classy.

Good morning, ma'am, you must be Bubba.

Thursday morning, Lynne shook Matt gently.
"We have to get going soon, honey," she said.
Now, it is well known that Matt - for whatever good qualities he might possess - is not the morning's most reliable thinker. Spoken words escape him and flutter into confusion. Talking and walking at the same time is nearly impossible. Comprehension, elusive.
So, when Lynne offered her kind little reminder, Matt somehow heard: "Did you let in a woman named Bubba?"
Matt could have sworn that's what she asked. In his sleep addled brain, early Thursday morning Lynne must have woke up and met an odd but harmless woman. Lynne introduced herself. Bubba introduced herself. They talked for a few minutes about the bailout and the White Sox, before the conversation led to the obvious question: So, Bubba, how did you get in here? Bubba, of course, said Matt had let her in. While Bubba seemed reliable, Lynne wanted to check out her story.
So, Lynne gently woke up Matt and asked, "Did you let in a woman named Bubba?"
Matt was sure that's what she had said.
But, the strangest part was not that Matt thought she asked that question. And the strangest part was not that there was a woman named Bubba.
The most peculiar part of this whole episode was that after hearing a rather bizarre question such as, "Did you let in a woman named Bubba?", Matt answered: "Yes."