This is part of the reason why I love summer so much. We can sit around the fire pit forever on summer evenings without worry of what time it is. I simply didn't do fires during the school year because just about time things got fun, we had to drag the boy insdie, kicking and screaming, to be put to bed. And after the battle was won, I didn't have the energy to revive the dead fire again.
So to make up for an entire school year of nobody having fun ever, Micah parties on with us until the long hours of the night. There is a price to pay for this, which is an occasional early bedtime for him and Luke (who still needs extra sleep, too), but it's such a small price that we willingly pay it. And if Micah just goes non-stop for several weeks on end, we've found that he'll crash occasionally because it's just too much for him.
We love this. Mostly because he hasn't randomly napped since he was about 18 months old. I take a picture every time I see it. It's akin to spotting a lynx. They're around, but they're not seen by the human eye if they can help it.
So last night, Sam took the older boys to a baseball game, and I stayed home with Micah. He would have been bored out of his little wee skull, and I would have been in charge of entertaining him, so I figured I'd just entertain him here. But he wasn't happy about that life choice we made for him and cried himself to sleep on the sofa. (Which means that he was Extra Super Tired to begin with, and really needed that nap.)
He slept for 2 hours, and woke at 7PM. I took him to town to get a movie (that's his comfort zone, and he was still upset at being left behind with the womenfolk) so after his movie it was 11:00. He insisted on a bath, and I was glad to oblige since he was sweaty and gross. He styled his hair, and brushed his teeth, and the boys came home from the game. Micah had someone to sleep with and I sent him down the hall with his brothers. It was pushing midnight, and we were all exhausted.
But I can't just go to sleep without catching up on Words With Friends. That would be ludicrous. I played all my friends, turned off the iPod, and was just about asleep when I thought I heard footsteps downstairs. In our house, I never think BURGLARS! Instead, I think, "Which of the kids is wandering around now?" I'm a mom; it's instinct. But I was tired, so I went back to dozing again.
Footsteps. Definite footsteps.
I drug myself out of bed and down the stairs. Micah was busy turning on all the lights so that he could commence playing. At 1 in the morning. I will never understand why playing is that important at any hour between midnight and 7AM. EVER. I herded that child to bed with a very stern voice. The fear in his eyes belied the fact that he caught my tone. I went back to bed.
Footsteps. AGAIN. He had to go potty. I waited. I waited some more. I herded him out of the bathroom and back to bed. I went back to bed.
FOOTSTEPS. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, MORE FOOTSTEPS. I ran across the bedroom, caught the boy sneaking down the hall, and pointed to the bedroom he needed to be in. He went. I stood outside the bedroom door to make sure he was going to stay there.
I confiscated his iPod Touch.
I confiscated a flashlight.
I confiscated Woody.
I confiscated his book stash.
I stood outside his door until I heard his deep breathing, and then went to bed myself.
So the next time I'm all thrilled with the fact that Micah crashes for an unscheduled nap in the evening hours, I'm going to ask everyone to remind me that he'll be up until 2AM. And he won't sleep in, either. Seven o'clock comes way earlier when you didn't get to bed until 2.
I think I might be ready for the school year's routine when it comes around again.
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