Sleepless in Scottsdale

There are lots of things I love about being on vacation with my family, and I look so forward to all of our fun adventures, but swear to god sleeping in one hotel room with those 3 is like being sentenced to death by sleep deprivation. 

It's nothing new. It happens every time, I just somehow continue to block it out until the first night of the next vacation when I am once again faced with 6 endless hours of the cacophony of disturbances that erupt from my dear family. 

There are times, when circumstance has allowed it, when we’ve gotten adjoining rooms and I thankfully - like get-down-on-my-knees thankfully - don’t have to endure the horror of what I'm about to describe, but this is how it goes most of the time.

Let me break it down for you;

Phase 1:
Girls Turn on "night night songs" which is a playlist of songs they’ve listened to since they were babies. There’s some James Taylor classics, a few Disney favorites and may or may not include a couple of lullabies by Kathie Lee Gifford (shut up).  If you are a parent don’t even try to deny the fact that your kids had ”night night songs”. The fact that my kids, at ages 10 and 16, still listen to theirs? Fine, go ahead and take a shot. Or two. 
So I’ve got Kathie Lee crooning a song that I’ve heard about 1,000 times at the very least and makes me alternately want to cry for the memories of my tiny babies and also rip my hair out because I’m so damn sick of it, and I can't escape it because it’s on repeat....right next to my head. Sweet dreams. 

Phase 2:
Girls spend about 10 minutes bitching at each other about who has more space in the bed. Keep in mind that there is also a small zoo of stuffed animals sharing the bed with them, what with all the ”stowaways” that seem to materialize each trip from their suitcase. (in Thing 1's defense, as she’s gotten older that’s not an issue anymore, but the memory of it is still as fresh as a 3 a.m. diaper in my sleep deprived mind). Husband yells at them and makes all sorts of threats about ”no swimming until noon” until they angrily turn away from each other, a wall of lonely stuffed animals between them.

Phase 3:
Girls finally fall asleep after 2 rounds of ”your foot is touching mine!”, and I abruptly shut off Kathie Lee and try to get as comfortable as I can sharing a double bed with husband when we are definitely king sized bed-don't touch me when I'm sleeping unless there's a thunder storm-kind of people.
Am abruptly jolted out of stage 1 REM by Thing 1 babbling - loudly! and in full sentences - about something that makes no sense yet at the same time makes me wish to god I had something to write it down with (she’s talked in her sleep for years). A recent example of her nocturnal jabber,  ”No (Thing 2)! It’s my turn on the monkey bars!” and something in Spanish that I couldn’t understand.

Phase 4:
Thing 1 and her jabbering are on a break, and I’m finally able to drift back off to a state of semi-dozing when i’m jolted upright by Thing 2 and her:

A. Moaning which sounds like she’s having a terrible nightmare but ends as suddenly as it starts
B. coughing...coughing..coughing...
C. Inexplicable thrashing about

Choose 1 - or all - of the above.

Keep in mind that none of these choices wakes her....or any other member of the family...just me. Lucky, lucky me.

Phase 5:
And then the snoring begins. 

Phase 6:
I’m now staring wide eyed at the ceiling, praying for all the noise to please please please stop while tapping, hitting, punching husband &/or punching my pillow to briefly interrupt the snoring, and thinking that the night will never end  and wondering if drinking heavily right before bed might solve this problem in the future, when blissfully - miraculously - all gets quiet and I fall into a state past dozing - but not quite genuine - sleep.  


Repeat Phases 3-6 for about 3 more hours.


In their defense it usually does improve gradually over the course of vacation, most likely from either their sheer exhaustion...or mine.

We are currently on our Spring Break vacation, so I’m writing this with burning eyes and shaky hands due to the 4 hours of interrupted sleep I logged last night (I’m poolside with a lovely neon colored drink at hand so don’t feel too sorry for me).

And this morning, Thing 2 says to me in total seriousness and exasperation, ”OK - Dad totally woke me up in the night with his snoring.”