It's a Conspiracy..

I am convinced that there are nights when all three kids, Jimmy, the dog, and various outside influences have a secret meeting where they decide that they will all do their part to make sure I don't sleep. I don't know why they would do this, because I am certainly more enjoyable to be around when I have slept, but trust me when I tell you--there is definitely a conspiracy going on.

Last night, after the kids had been in bed and allegedly asleep for well over an hour, B woke up, crying uncontrollably, and Jimmy went in to see him. I don't know what conversation took place, but the end result was that B was sitting on the couch, eating a ham sandwich, at ten o'clock last night. Shortly after this, N appeared downstairs, also crying uncontrollably, upset that B was allowed to stay up, and she wasn't. Eventually, after their mother freaked out calmly explained that it was important to get a good night's sleep, the sweet little cherubs found their way back to bed.

As I finally started to get into bed a short time later, next to the loud as a freight train on steroids soft soothing snores of my husband, it was O's turn to wake up crying. In order not to wake B, I brought O into our bed. He's not two yet. He shouldn't take up much room. But he does. Surely three of us should be able to sleep comfortably in a queen size bed. But we don't.

Every time I moved to try to get comfortable, O literally moved under whichever part of me was currently not in contact with the mattress. I repeatedly moved him over, but he was not content with this. Apparently he must be touching me at every moment. This is very sweet, and normally I would love to snuggle with this sweet boy.  But the thing is, I don't like anyone touching me when I am going to sleep. At all. I guess this didn't really matter, since I wasn't actually going to sleep, as long as I was clinging to the six inches of my own bed that my not yet two-year-old had allotted me. Eventually, though, my body decided that it was too tired to care that we only had six inches on which to sleep, and I started to drift off. And as soon as I did, I heard the BEEP BEEP BEEP of a truck repeatedly backing up outside our window.

It's now one o'clock in the morning. It's a little late...or early...for a big truck to be turning around on our street, which is what I assume it's doing. They seem to be having difficulty, because the back-up sounds continue for several minutes. Eventually they pull away, and I drift off again.

Until B comes in.
"Mommy, move over"
Well, I would...if I could.
I know there's no way we're getting any sleep if we all attempt to stay in this bed, so I give B my spot, and take O to his room. I put him in his crib and lay on B's bed. O likes this slumber party idea. He wants to talk.
"Mama? B Daddy bed? Bella, N, night night. Bankie, mom? More bankie? Momma, nudder bankie? Nudder bankie!" Told you he was a hoarder.
Eventually he is quiet and I start to drift off...until I hear BEEP BEEP BEEP again. Another truck is backing up outside. You have got to be kidding me. It's now two AM.  This truck sounds bigger...and noisier. The backing up sounds stop but the truck is idling loudly outside the window, and it's not going away.

I look out the window to see a large tow truck backed up to an unfamiliar minivan parked at the corner next to our house. No one ever parks on that corner, unless we're having a party, which we're not--mine and O's slumber party aside. We live in a pretty quiet neighborhood. The closest street is a dead end, so it's not like we're even on the way to anywhere else. Who calls a tow truck at two in the morning from here?

O is now standing up, watching me watch the truck.
"Tuck mommy?"
"Yeah O. It's a truck."
An obnoxious, noisy truck.
I hear chains, more backing up, some guys talking. Do they know it's two in the morning?
I look out again and see what appears to be one of the guys from ZZ Top. Only with a significantly larger beer belly than I remember the ZZ Top guys having. And he is not a sharp dressed man.
ZZ  is attempting to hook the car up to the tow truck, though he appears to be having some difficulty. He looks in the car windows for something. There's no driver of the car around.  The only other person is another ZZ Top guy driving the tow truck. Car thieves don't use tow trucks to steal cars, right?

I hear more chain noise, more backing up.  I wish if they were going to do this--whatever this is--they would be a little quieter about it. I think they know they are being watched. I wonder if I am making them flustered. It is now well after two in the morning, I have not slept. I hope I am making them flustered. But I'm pretty sure ZZ Top is not easily flustered.

As the ZZs continue to make noise outside our windows, I remember the earlier truck backing up... and then I get it. This is not a broken down minivan getting a tow. This is a non-paid-for minivan getting a repo. I really wish the ZZ Top Repo Men had picked some other corner.

I consider going outside and telling them this. After all, it is now two-thirty in the morning. I have not slept, and O has barely slept, all because the ZZ Top Repo Men have for some reason chosen the corner next to our house as the setting for Operation Repo Minivan. I imagine word about this new location spreading through the repo community, and I picture our quiet little corner becoming a hotbed of repo activity. I am seriously thinking of going out to have a little chat with the ZZ Top Repo Men, and then I think of the chain of events that will likely occur if I leave this room. O will cry. Jimmy will (possibly) wake up, and will (eventually) wonder where I went. He will look all around the house, growing panicky with the thought that something has happened to me and that he will have to raise these children by himself. When he eventually finds me outside at three in the morning, telling the moonlighting ZZ Top Repo Men to go find some other corner, he will know for certain that I have lost the last bit of my sanity that remained.

So instead of going outside to talk to the ZZ Top Repo men, I just continue to stand at the window, and watch. I think about going downstairs and making some popcorn, but I'm hoping the show's almost over.
O is looking for an update. "Tuck mommy?"
"Yup O. The truck is still there. Can you say repo man?"
"Repo Man".
Yay O!
I love it when he learns new words.

Eventually the ZZs get the minivan hooked up, and start to pull away. I realize that, in addition to the minivan they are now towing, there is a shiny SUV on the flatbed. Yup. Repo men for sure. Finally, it is quiet again, and we lay back down.

"Night night Mommy."
"Good night O."
I am drifting off, yet again, when I hear him say,
"Night Night Repo Man".

I feel kind of bad for the people who lost their minivan, but let's keep things in perspective. After all, I lost something way more valuable.
A night's sleep.