Just the other day while waiting for our kids to be dismissed from school, some of us moms started talking about sleep. Or more like how they can't get their children to partake willingly of said activity.
Not trying to pat myself on the back too hard, I spoke aloud about how Mr. P is a fabulous sleeper. Never fights to go to bed, sleeps all night, wakes up at a pretty decent hour.
I should have known that to speak of such things is to instantly curse yourself.
Because lo and behold, last night marked the fourth night in a row that Mr. P woke up at some sort of ungodly hour. The first night it was to make a visit to the restroom at 4am, where he proceeded to sit on the toilet for twenty minutes. Granted it was an, er, productive session, but still.
The next night 4am again, this time with no real reason. The next night more of the same. Then last night he progressed to waking up 2am, which is a twisted definition of progress, but I'm grasping at straws here, my friends.
I asked him this morning why he was having such problems staying asleep. He replied that he gets hot under the covers.
Light pajamas and the fan blowing right on him.
Let's see what happens, shall we?
But if this doesn't resolve itself soon, I may have to take some drastic measures. I don't know exactly what they will entail at this moment, but dammit, they will be drastic.
And trust me, if anyone ever asks me again if Mr. P is a good sleeper, I am keeping my freaking mouth shut.