Tonight I'm drinking sangria with a Tylenol PM chaser. You're on, Jeff.

So, for the last two nights, Max has decided that sleeping is only an option and he has chosen to pass. Now, we are all familiar with his sleeping issues, which he brought with him from Korea along with some pajamas and a container of rice sludge. However, for the last several months, he has been doing well and would sleep through the night with little to no issues. Granted, he would wake up the minute the sun came up but that is another battle for another day and at least he was sleeping, which meant I was sleeping which meant things were happy in this house. In fact, things got so good the last week or so that he was sleeping 12 HOURS STRAIGHT and not waking up until after 7am. Clearly my going in the backyard and doing a Broadway-style song and dance number in celebration of this threw a wrench in the universe because for the last two nights, he has woken up and wouldn't go back to sleep without either being in our bed with us or me being in bed with him in his room. No, I don't get in his crib. We have a twin bed in there although the crib was looking pretty good at 4am. Now, sleeping with Max is a little like capturing a wild animal, perhaps a hyena, keeping it in a cage for a little while, poking it with a stick to make it extra mad and then putting it in your bed and releasing it. There is a lot of kicking, punching, poking and slapping, not to mention what Max is doing. ZING! I keed, I keed. He is the one doing those things.
Anyway, the night before last he woke up at 10pm, yes 10pm which was a whole 2 hours after we put him down, so we put him in our bed, which lasted until about 2am, at which time I decided to spare Jeff any further head injury and I took him into his room. He spent the rest of our time in there wiggling around like a minnow. He would also randomly bang his head and/or arm into the wall. It was tons of fun as you can imagine but I did manage to get a couple hours in. However, he psyched me out last night by sleeping until 2:30am, which was just long enough to lull me into a false sense of security. I let him cry for a bit but it was clear he was pretty pissed off so I relented and went in. Of course the minute we got into his bed he shut right up and I spent the next 3.5 hours trying to remember what it was like to not be tired. SUCKER. At one point he flopped right on top of me, grabbed my nose and went "BEEP" and then passed back out for about 5 minutes. He finally sat up wide awake and said "bobble" so I said screw this and went in and made him a bottle. I know he's too old for one but DON'T JUDGE ME.
Now, I have a few theories as to why this is happening. One is that he might be teething so tonight he's getting a nice dose of ibuprofen before bed. Two, he ate dinner late last night and maybe he had heartburn or something that woke him up, just like daddy. Tonight he's getting the early bird special with his Golden Girl reruns. We seriously watch that every day. My third theory is that he is trying to make me so tired that I will give up top secret information to him because clearly he is working for someone nefarious. Who this is I don't know but whoever you are, well played, sir, well played. I'm ready to sing like a canary.