MUST.HAVE.SLEEP

And just when we think he's turned a corner...

he turns around and runs back the other way.

Yesterday we made the executive parental decision that the little guy was done with the prescription Tylenol with codeine. Five days on around-the-clock codeine seemed like a lot, plus it was messing with his, ummm, elimination system.

Turns out tonsil-free throats don't listen to parental decisions. Also turns out our punishment for that decision was to listen to that tonsil-free throat scream at 11:52 p.m.

And 1:15 a.m.

And 4:51 a.m.

For 35 minutes.

We did find out from our son, however, this very important piece of information, "NO! TURN IT OFF! I'M ALLERGIC TO LIGHT!" So THAT'S been the problem these last four years. Good to know.

At 5:30 a.m. I finally tucked him back in bed (the living room floor), and I crawled back in bed (the couch) and started to drift off, when I heard more crying because his nose was stuffy and he couldn't breathe. So to the chair we went for some quality sleep rest staring out the window at the psychotic blinking yard light.

A few minutes later my son was sleeping. Then giggling. Then laughing. Wha??? It would have been stinkin' cute if I wasn't so sleep deprived for being up all night. He literally laughed so hard in his sleep that he woke himself up. Then he looked up at me with those big puppy dog brown eyes and said, "Mom, I was dreaming."

Me too, honey. Dreaming of SLEEP.

And Tylenol with codeine.