I repeat! We have a breach in the force-field!
Up until just the last week or so, Connery has stayed in his room after being put to bed as if held there by an invisible fence. If he needed something, he would call. Otherwise, he was reliably in his bedroom from, say, 8:30 p.m. right through to around 7:00 a.m. Now, many of you out there will be laughing heartily and telling us to just count our damn blessings for having had more than three years of reliably private sleep, and I recognize the luxury of our problem. After all, I have many friends who have yet to pass a night alone in bed with their partner since the birth of their child. In some cases, that's going on four or five years. We are not those people. The family bed is great, great, great for many, many families who are not us.
From his first night home, Connery has slept in his own bed, a fact that makes Dr. Sears weep at the thought of our insufficient bonding. What Dr. Sears doesn't know--can't know--is that Connery makes noises like a dolphin when he sleeps and thinks our mere presence in the room with him signals fun playtime for all. Also, it's no secret that the family I married into has some snoring issues. Between Flipper and the honk-shu factor, nobody gets any sleep when we're all together, which is why it is a far, far better thing for Chip and I to sleep at least one room away from the son to whom we are insufficiently bonded.
But in the last week, Connery has been violating the existing Sleep Accords of 2004. Twice in one week I have awoken in terror wondering if those legends about cats sucking out your breath are true only to find that it is not the cat on my chest but my son. He hops into bed like he's been doing it all his life and is confused by our consternation. This morning he hopped in at 5 a.m., which is pretty much the rudest possible time (as it leaves us only 21 minutes until the alarm goes off) and then, after we put him back to bed, decided that 6:15 would be a good time to get up for good.
What is this? Does he not understand the sacred time between 5:30 and 7:00, when the non-comics portions of the paper are read, the first cup of coffee is drunk, the showers are taken, and the face is applied? These are key elements of the day and are strictly non-negotiable. They have never been on the table for discussion, and I don't understand why they would be now. Unfortunately, being three, he is not so into the logical argument side of things.
Which leaves us at an impasse. Do we assume that the last few nights are just an aberration? Do we lay down the law? Do we buy a lock for our bedroom door?
I know what all you parent-types are thinking: "None of the above, genius! You get down on your knees and you thank the deity of your choice that you actually got to sleep in your own bed, with your partner, without your child for more than three years. And then you shut up."
Oh, OK.