Sleepwalker

Oh my sweet, little Sylvester.  He came to me after school pleading, “Mom, can you make the sleepwalking stop?  It’s getting weird.” 

I turned to look at him, taking a minute to think about what he meant and trying to figure out what he was talking about.  Then I remembered earlier that morning and burst out laughing.  “Oh my goodness, is that what ‘the pajamas in the fridge’ was all about this morning!?”

“Yes!” he sighed.  “Last night I got up, took my pajamas off, and put them in the fridge.  Who does that?  It’s just weird.”

Let me take a minute to fill you in on Sylvester’s sleep habits.  He never has slept very well.  As a baby, he fought nighttime with everything his little voice could muster.  He didn’t just cry, he screamed while we rocked him, talked to him, fed him, and finally laid him on a sheep skin in the cradle in the kitchen (the warmest place in the house) to try and get some sleep ourselves.  He did finally sleep through the night for a bit only to have growing pains and night terrors later on.  We slathered on creams, keeping some next to his bed in easy reach for when he woke up and made sure he drank plenty of water.  The terrors and pains gave up and he started sleep fighting with his brothers.  (He never has sleep fought with his sister, though.)  We would wake up several times a week to Sylvester yelling at his brother to quit fighting with him only to go to his room and find him asleep, yelling at (usually) Ethan.  Now, he sleep walks, and still occasionally sleep fights with his brothers.  When he sleep walks, he turns on every light in the house and on a couple of occasions has ventured outside.  He certainly strives to keep life interesting!

So, the other morning when I went to get him up, he quickly sat up and grabbed the covers.  He wouldn’t lay back down as he usually does or let me tickle his feet.  Hmmm.  I left to get the others up and make coffee.  As I was making coffee, Sylvester snuck in the kitchen and was digging through the fridge.  Now, it’s not atypical to have children constantly dig through the fridge in our home.  However, none of us are morning people, so the fridge pilfering usually doesn’t occur until about mid morning.  Pretty soon I heard, “What the heck!?  How did my pajamas get in the fridge?”  Then he quickly scooted out of the kitchen.  I just cocked my headed in wonder at him and went on about my business.  I mean, really, why would there be pajamas in the refrigerator?