#10 -Eight hours of sleep is for pansies

Why I Have Perma-Bags Under My Eyes

I was sound asleep when I heard her cry,

I picked her up, cuddled her to my chest,

Beside me in bed, I was too tired to try,

To put her back in the crib to finish her rest.

We both fell asleep, we both love bed-sharing,

Then,  “Mama” he screamed! I ran to the fright,

“It’s too dark, ” he said, tousled and glaring,

I grumbled and flooded the hallway with light.

My son who is scared of the dark is awake,

Now I have to sleep under floodlights, sigh!

I close my door,give my tired head a shake,

I have to block out the hallway light to get by.

Less than three hours ‘til dawn the clock taunts,

Exhaling slowly I slipped back to dreamland,

Then a familiar sound, my slumber it haunts,

A scritching and scratching relentlessly panned.

Effing cat can’t handle the door not ajar,

She has to get in to sleep on my head,

I threw a book at the door, really quite far,

It thumped and she scattered, yowling with dread.

Finally, I sighed and closed off my brain,

It didn't last long, she wanted my bed,

Just seconds later, she was scratching again,

In my sleep addled state, I swore, “That cat is dead!”

But, I’m a sucker, what can I say?

Little feet in my ribs and a cat on my chest,

Finally I doze fitfull 'til light of day,

The clock reminds me, two hours to rest.

My door opens a crack; in comes another,

“What?” I snarl, as I sit up slowly and glare,

He warily eyes his impatient mother,

A sight with her eye bags and tangle of hair.

“I had to get up now,” the little boy said, 

He exhales slowly, “Mama, I wet the bed.”

-Laura Freeman-

April 10, 2014