Thursday, July 11, 2013

The War

My darling sleep,

How I already miss you. I was taken away from you too soon this morning, not even by the Enemy, but by a thunderstorm, which in turn woke the Enemy from her slumbers.

When hoping to reunite with you during our usual afternoon rendezvous while the Enemy napped, a new strategy was used that our side was not prepared for: the Enemy has learned to climb out of her prison cell, or "crib," as we call it here on the battlefield. The sound of "thumps" came from Enemy camp as she fell onto the floor and promptly kept playing.

Soon, she had wandered over our line, camouflaged in dirty PJs from the laundry basket that, fittingly enough, said, "Too Cute to Sleep" and with a huge grin on her face, causing our side to erupt into hysterics.





We had to change our tactic and, I'm afraid, this will make our daily encounters more spread out and shorter, unfortunately. The Enemy only need be jostled by any little thing and she is now free to roam the battlefield, tearing us apart at any moment. The boyfriend went into Enemy territory and took down the side of the "crib," transitioning the holding cell into something we call a "Toddler Bed." It was a turning point in the war, I'm afraid. Basically, we have gotten to Gettysburg and there's no turning back now. The Enemy said a final farewell  in the form of "Bye Bye Crib!" as the boyfriend was made late for work, heavens bless him.


And then ... it was time. Both the Enemy and I squared off. I was staring death of my beloved afternoon solace right in the face as the Enemy refused to stay put in her new boundaries. There were yells, hollars, pleas for mercy. Tears shed, bodies of stuffed animals strewn about the ground as the Enemy and I battled for over an hour.

My battle cry was, "Back to bed!" I said it over and over again, any time the Enemy's foot found its way outside the Toddler Bed. She called back with wimpers and hiccups.

I tried all the basic tactics I could think of: Distraction by way of "Mary Poppins;" Ambush attacks of putting her down when she was almost asleep on my shoulder; Bait and Switch from my bed to hers, but none proved successful. It was stupid of me to think the element of Surprising her with a toddler bed would do the trick and that would be the end of discussion.

Eventually, I found success with the Hit-and-Run tactic. I would put her down and go sit watch on the other side of room. Whenever I saw her get out of the crib, I let out my battle cry of, "Back to Bed" and she knew I wasn't playing around. This went on for what seemed like hours.

I had set up camp on a chair with my Kindle and my iPhone for company, but, in the cold, dark of afternoon nap time, with me as the only person in the room who liked me at that moment, I was utterly alone. I could feel the anger coming from Enemy camp.

Finally, there was a cease fire from Enemy lines. I stood my ground, knowing it could just be a ploy. I got up all the courage I could muster, my heart pounding knowing I could very well be setting off land mines by just moving -- the Enemy always seems to know. I wonder if she has the same eyes in the back of her head I do sometimes.

However, when I snuck a peak into the Enemy's lair, I saw she was, at last, surrendering. Strangely enough, it was YOU, dear sleep, that was the final determination of how this battle would end.

Unfortunately, I would have loved to run to your arms right after, but I fear what the Enemy will now do if I fail to leave you at a timely hour. So, for now, let our encounters be meaningful and peaceful. I will miss you, dear friend.

I would love to end this letter on a more positive note, but, as you may well be aware, the battle may have been won, but the war is just beginning. I can sense the Enemy will get stronger, more willful. But, for now, she sleeps.