12:53 a.m.

It was 12:53 a.m. I awoke to find that, once again, I had been relegated to 8 inches of my own king sized bed. This situation can be manageable if I lay on my side and cling to my pillow, which is weighed down on the opposite side by a child. I am very good at this - practice makes perfect.

The problem in this case was that I was awake. What was it that stirred me from my slumber?

Keaton.

Keaton was again talking/yelling/demanding in his sleep. In this instance he was complaining about how he couldn't open his Propel - "I can't get it open! Momma! Open it!"

I quickly gathered my wits and decided I would just play along, hoping to solve his subconscious dilemma. "Give it to me. I'll open it," I said. Then I pretended to take a bottle of Propel from Keaton's hands and made the motion to open the top.

Soon I realized that Keaton was sleeping, eyes closed and all, and my hand motions were probably unnecessary.

I think he said "thanks," and then he told me he wanted some juice in a cup and he wanted to go with me to get it. So off we went to the kitchen (he was a little awake, so we went for real instead of pretending) to get him some juice. I was once again reminded of my prowess with holding 26 pounds of person in one hand and, with the other hand, opening the refrigerator, getting a cup, opening a bottle of juice, pouring, and putting a lid on a sippy cup. If they had Olympics for this sport, I am certain I would be a medal contender.

Side note - perhaps I should market this idea as a television show. "Mommy Olympics." We could have events like one handed juice cup making and scrubbing fingerpaint from under tiny little fingernails without making the kid cry and even who can give the scariest "mommy look" that makes the children stop drawing on the bedroom walls with a sharpie in the least amount of seconds (not that that's happened at my house).

Anyway, eventually Keaton went back to whatever dream he was having, and I returned to my eight inches of the bed.

But I awoke this morning with a mission. There must be some way to get my bed back. I should say "our" bed because Trey just pointed out that he had the opposite eight inches of the bed, flanked by Tucker, until giving up at 4:30 a.m. and going to the couch. What shall we do? I don't know yet, but rest assured it will be big. There will likely be stickers involved...and rearranging furniture...and maybe even locked doors (is that legal?)...

Random side note #2 - Trey made whole wheat waffles this morning and the boys didn't even notice the difference! Score one for the healthy eating habits!