But what happens when two children are awake?
At 3:30am, G started crying. We think he's close to popping tooth #6 but right now he's just whimpery and not-deep-sleeping-y. His cries woke L, who popped out of her room and announced her awakeitude and declared her intentions to go downstairs. The lovely husband has an intricate system for dealing with her insomnia where he positions her on the couch with pillows and blankets and a dimly-lit room and her cartoons at low volume and he tried to take her downstairs as I shushed G. But G would have none of it; he bucked and writhed and screamed from my arms, reaching towards his daddy. So I took L downstairs and she's on her third show; she's wide awake and eating a snack and telling me about playing dinosaur at school yesterday and the lovely husband will give me some critical piece of advice later, in the debriefing, about how he secretly pushes her "off" button in these insomniac episodes, but clearly I've toggled the wrong switch.
So now the lovely husband, who has not come to address the awakeitude of his second child, must be alseep in the rocking chair upstairs, holding his third child. L is fully upright and bouncing and yelling at Swiper on the screen. I am blogging and pondering that I don't really love starting my day two hours before the alarm I usually ignore with at least three snoozes sings its initial reverie. And E, who had wandered in several hours earlier, while I was still there, is blissfully asleep, not even realizing she has the entire king-size bed to herself.