the night of the living jack

the sour look on his face totally describes how the night at the bed and breakfast went for us.  err, me, mostly.  i have never experienced such severe beatings then i did while trying to fall asleep with him.  whether it was because the room was incredibly hot or that the sun was still spilling loudly into the room at 9 pm (we even put blankets over the windows), mister jack-man did not want to go to bed.  or lay still.  or not hit, kick, bite, punch his mother.  when he would lay down, he would throw his boney heels perfectly into my gut and/or thighs - talk about a charley horse!  he even got a few good head butts in.  he perfected the art of pinching to the back of the arm.  i thought this was a learned habit, but i tend to think now that it is by instinct that you just know the tender spots.  he was pulling at my eye lashes when i modeled what he should be doing.  i was pelted with his sippy to my temple.  the last time i looked at the clock was around 10:30 pm, and it was still another half hour at least until he stopped moving.  i did mention it was toasty in the room, but i failed to mention that i put him to sleep in only a diaper.  around 4 am, i woke to jackie stirring.  he had been sleeping on his belly and rolled over to his back, perfectly nestling into my stomach/chest area.  how sweet, i thought, my little cuddle bug but only when he's sleeping.   wide-eyed at this point, enjoying the new sweetness of him, i slowly realized my night gown is really hot... no, no wait a second, yep, that's pee.  i just got peed on.  apparently, i had fallen asleep before jack had, and he had pulled on his diaper just enough on one side.  so really awake now, i jump to get my night gown off, pull the sheets away and all ready, jack is sitting up with his good morning, mama smile.  i quickly throw a towel down, resume sleeping position, (i'm not getting up at 4 am), but he's not having it.  he's up, ready to start the day.  i think quickly, throw a banana down his hatch, fill his sippy with some oj and pray to the good Lord that he falls asleep swiftly.  my last glance at the clock read 6 am.  however, he did manage to sleep until 9.  and again, when he woke up, he had one of those you-know-what-kinda-eatin-grins, ready for what life was about to throw at him.  i hadn't been more tired than those first few weeks of his life.