No Thanks, for the Memories

I always thought it would be great to be part of a big family, but it turns out when you combine my parents, my sister, her husband and son, with me and my two kids in a two bedroom cottage, even a small family unit can be too close for comfort. Still, my sister only comes home from Denver twice a year so I was prepared to deal with the accommodations so I could see her my awesome 2 1/2 year-old nephew William. I guess I should back up and explain the setting. When my sister comes home the one place she most wants to be is at the shore. (This may be the only thing we have in common.) For the Shimers, that translates into a second cousin's six-room (not bedroom) cottage in Waretown, NJ near the marina where my dad keeps his boat on Barnegat Bay.

Last Thursday evening, I traveled with Ian and Abby to Waretown to spend the night so we could have a full day together with William, et al on Friday. This is how the sleeping accomodations worked out:

• Abby slept on my dad's boat with my mom (Nana). Sleeping accomodations are probably about the size of a bunk on a submarine, but Abby was up for an adventure and my mom actually enjoys sleeping there.
• Dad (PopPop) slept alone in one of the bedrooms because he has that scary-looking breathing aparatus that folks with sleep apnea use.
• Dawn and husband Rob took the other bedroom
• And somehow I ended up with William and Ian on the sofa bed. Ian laying (or is it lying?) horizontal across the bottom at my feet

When Dawn first put an already-sleeping William in the bed with me (she can't sleep with him for some reason), he was angelic -- sound asleep, holding his blankie. I was transported back to that idyllic time in childhood with my own two. It was/is so easy to love them when they're asleep. But somewhere around 12:53 a.m., angelic sleeper boy turned into bed-hogging non-stop motion boy. My nightmare included William, at irregular intervals, flopping around like a fish, sticking his feet in my mid-section, scratching his stomach, and whimpering. At one point he even made motorboat sounds. Seriously. (Obviously knowing this, Dawn was apparently trying to get even with me for some long-held resentment over a sibling wrongdoing during our childhood.)

Somewhere around 2:03 a.m. I gave up trying to get a minute's sleep with the little pain in the ass dear and moved to a recliner next to the sofa bed. I was close to settling down when he started crying out softly with that heart-wrenching "Mommy" that brings even non-maternal women like me to our knees.

I crawled out of my recliner to lie next to him and calm his fears and you know what the little stinker said in his in his semi-coherent state? "My side."

Yes, apparently my resting to his left was a problem for the little control freak William. As I moved to his right side, the little bully sweetheart proceeded to steal my pillow. After that it's all a blur. The last time I looked at the clock it was 4:12 a.m.  And by 7 a.m, my adorable nephew was awake, chipper, and all smiles and charm.

Ask me if I miss having little ones. Go ahead, ask me...