We finally did it and for the first time in 13 years we will trust ourselves. We are saying no to eating out! In most cases Paul and I are fast learners but, for what ever reason, when it comes to dining out we are freakishly, overly hopeful and enthusiastic on what a great time we will have and or how great the food will be.

Last night was the night for us. The writing on the wall was loud and clear. We went to a local pizza joint. I am embarrassed to say that we have been there more than several times in the past year and a half and every time we’ve been disappointed. So, anyway we order wings and a pizza. The wings are huge, not the order but the wings themselves. Rainy asked if they were rooster wings. Torrent proceeded to explain to Rainy they are big because they are from buffaloes…and they are big. The whole “too big” wing thing made my mind wander to bad places. Then the pizza was brought out. The cheese half didn’t look so bad but the sausage half looked weird. Weird enough that now Rainy and Torrent were hawking the cheese side. The sausage was half cooked, bumpy, boiled, ball like things (the size of golf balls) plopped without care on the pie. It was a sight. It was one of those moments where your eyes just naturally squint to try to help you see what you think you see. The service was worse than the food. And to top it all off the young woman that sat next to us had many piercings about her face, head and neck area. But for me the piercings weren’t even the worst part, it was the cut down, really tight, three prong belt that she wore around her neck. Once again my mind was wandering to places it shouldn’t be. And to think I didn’t even have to describe the antics of our four kids, ages six and younger, Josie, our dog waiting by the window, and a mom and dad who never get enough sleep.

I’m hopeful to say that I think we are cured!

It’s 11:42pm and I am still up. I owe it all to Dare and Sanguine. I started staying up late since they were born. The reason being that when all four children went to bed I wanted to be fully conscious and know how it felt not to have anyone hanging on me (we call it “Lovin’ on” or “huggin’ on”). Well I have to admit that it’s probably not the wisest decision I have ever made, because when 5:30am rolls around and Dare is waking up, I’m wishing that I’d gone to bed at about 8:00.

However on my 40th birthday Paul and the kids bought me the entire first season of the hot TV show, LOST. Have you know I knew nothing about this story. We have been TV-less for some years now but since LOST has woven itself oh so intricately into my life I can’t stop! I don’t go to bed without watching at least two episodes per night. We, I dragged Paul in with me, are just wrapping up with season 2. We have one more disc to go before season 3 engulfs me. I’m hooked, I have got to come clean… “Hi, my name is Monica and I am a LOST Junkie”. Thanks, Now I can go to bed.

The switch happened about six weeks ago. Paul and I decided that it was a good time to wean the littles at night. It’s hard to believe but I guess I was beginning to show signs of being a bit tired. I hadn’t had a full night sleep in more than 18 months. Up until this point my bed time job was to put the littles down the only way there is, to nurse them into oblivion. Too bad though, the trance only lasted for two hours. And then I do it again and again and again, until Paul’s sweet voice woke me the next morning. Paul was in charge of putting the bigs down by reading and singing. Well, anyone with milk in their boobs would tell you that I had it made… I possessed the only REAL Super Hero Power.

Well, back to weaning. It took about three nights for the littles to get over me. I guess you could say I was sadened by the short amount of time it took. But then I was beginning to feel bad for Paul. His sentence now was just beginning—to spend the rest of his nights fighting the littles to just relax and give up the ghost. And all I had to do was read and sing. I was on easy street, or so I thought. But then something funny happened, the bigs wanted a lot of books read and my entire repertoire to be sung every night. And just as I was finishing up the first book, I would hear Paul leave the babies and walk down the creakiest stair case, just minutes after saying good night to us. And now the babies are sleeping through the night too.

On occasion I ask him how he does it, and he gives me a big smile with a little giggle and says “they just fall right asleep.” I know one thing, Paul is my super hero!

If you are not prepared to shake in you boots then don’t go any farther. For everyone out there who thought that I was absorbed by my four children and that I would never resurface again, you’re wrong… for now. I am back and standing only a little hunched over. I fought my way out from under mounds of laundry, dirty diapers—times two, reading more than my fair share of Dr. Seuss books, making snacks, tandem nursing, putting kids down for naps, making lunch, nursing, making more snacks, putting more kids down for naps, wiping butts, supervising hand washing, tandem nursing, bandaging booboos (because I am a doctor), doing dishes, nursing, getting rainy from the bus stop, making more snacks, changing a few more poop diapers, discussing which super hero is the biggest, the fastest, and or the strongest, and then looking at the clock and seeing that I (we, me and the bigs and littles) only have one more hour to go before Daddy comes walking through the front door. And when he does the joy is over whelming. My relief is here! And I run to the bathroom to pee. Tune in tomorrow for a bit more. I am committed to writing for another 15 minutes.