I dreamt about bears last night. Not cute cuddly cartoon bears. I’m talking about the big, brown scary ones. But the bears weren’t that scary. They were just there. I can’t remember anything else about my dream, but that’s ok.
Non-threatening bears were better than the Nazi-zombies I dreamt about the night before, thanks to Ryan and friends completing Call of Duty, War of Worlds and finding the hidden level.
Back to the bears, they were kind of growling, a low constant growl. And then Ethan woke me up with screams of “Mommy I’m hungry!” at 4am. I know that he can sleep through the night, even though he’s breastfed. He started sleeping through the night at 2 months… so many months ago, and stopped at 3 months when teething began. How many mothers have seriously considered a bottle of formula right before bed and Mom’s Milk the rest of the time? Not tonight, carry on Mom, don’t cut any corners or I’ll wake up as soon as you crawl back into bed and demand more.
I took the boy out to the living room to top up his tummy, sat down on the couch and turned on Much More Music. It amazes me that I watch more music videos during night-time feedings than I do during my days at home in front of the TV. Mind you, music video stations play music videos all through the night, and just junk-shows during the day.
So for half an hour, that is what we did. Ethan ate and I watched Nickelback videos from 2002 (wow! Chad Kroeger really needed a haircut) and new Michael Buble looking for the woman of his dreams in a grocery store. I’m right here Michael! *just kidding Ryan, you’re definitely cuter than him*.
And as I put Ethan back in his crib, a heard a familiar sound. The constant low growl from my dreams. The bear. And there he was, sprawled out on our King-size bed, sleeping on his back, which causes him to snore. At least the night-feedings aren’t keeping him up.
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