Middle of the night fun.

10:00 AM

{1:34 am}

I am sleeping, soundly, when I hear a door open and shut and little feet pad across the floor.  A little blond girl is then standing next to my bed and not saying a word.  She is just staring at me, which totally freaks me out.  I ask her if she is okay (because I know the answer), she doesn't reply and just walks into the kitchen.  I follow her.  She doesn't speak. She just stands there.  I ask myself, is she sleep walking?  She bends down and makes her "sad face" (I really need a picture of it because it's pretty funny) and then I know that she's wide awake and just wants something but until she tells me what she wants, she is just out of luck.  I take her to the potty and send her back to bed, where she tells me that she would like milk.  Ugh.  I take her milk (which I normally NEVER do, it's water or nothing) and she has a few sips and hands the cup back to me.  I tell her no more milk in the middle of the night, only water.  She says, okay, and goes back to sleep.

{2:07 am}

I can't sleep.  I have been tossing and turning for twenty minutes or so while the husband and the dog snore and the hamster runs on his not-so-silent wheel. 
I think about Cameryn's birthday party and the decorations that I still need to make.  I think about her cake, should I make one or order it?  I think about the errands that I need to run on my lunch break (No silly hats and masks are involved, though yesterday I did put on some big clown glasses.).  I think about the cheesecake that I told Chris that I would make for him this weekend.  I think about babies and how I want one.  I think about the floor and how we really need to finish the grout so that I can actually wash it before the party.  I think about our vacation coming up, because dear god, I need a vacation.  I think about the candlesticks that I want to give a makeover and the pictures that still need to be hung.
I hear a door open and shut.  I hear little feet pad across the floor.  This time the little blond girl does not come into my room.
I lay quietly and ask myself, what she is doing?  Then I see a faint light come on.
Really?  She turned a light on?
I lay quietly for a minute or two, but I don't hear anything.
I'm starting to worry a little bit.
I get up and walk out of my bedroom.

My child has opened the refrigerator and is climbing the shelves.  There she is, standing on the bottom of the fridge, stretching, one foot about to climb the next shelf (the bottom drawer) and she is saying, "I just need to get... a little bit... higher."

"Cameryn!  What are you doing?!"

"You said no more milk, Mommy, I was getting water."

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