Conversation, 1:34 am

Isaac, from his room: Mom? Mommy. Mommy?

Me: Umph.

Isaac: Mommy! Mommy! Wahhhhhhh, mooommmmy!

Me, sighing heavily, heaving myself out of bed and into his room: Shhh, sweetie, it's okay. Don't wake Vivi up.

Isaac: Wahhhhhh!

Me: Shhh! Quiet, sweetie! What's wrong? What is it? Oh--what? What happened?

Isaac, whispering: I need another slinky*, Mommy. Please can I have another?

Me: How did that get so wet? Whoa, how is your bed so wet? Oh, Isaac, you're soaked.

I pick him up and bring him into our room as he starts wailing again. Pull off his sopping wet pajamas to reveal underwear. Isaac is potty trained, but not at night. At night, he still needs an overnight diaper to hold in all the pee.

Me: Lance! Lance! Wake up! Why didn't you put him in an overnight?

Lance: Huh? Um. Ooph.

Me, swearing under my breath: Jesus. Here, Isaac, let's put on some new pjs.

I get him dressed and put him into our bed, knowing this will mean no sleep for me. He insists on sleeping horizontally across the bed, and refuses covers, which puts me teetering on the edge of the bed, shivering. Better than changing his sheets at this hour, though, especially since I won't be able to do that without waking his sister.

Isaac: snore

Lance: snore

Me, as I climb into bed, attempt to move Isaac into a better position and wonder if I should go grab a sweatshirt: Mutter, mutter, heavy sigh.

Vivian: Mommy? Where are you, Mommy?

Me: Shit!



*'slinky' is what we call the kids' blankies around here--it's a bastardization of "silkie", which is what they are officially called.