Olympic Sleepwalking

Some things just don't go together. Oil and Water. Light and Dark. Politics and Religion. Cagney and Lacy. Mix two things that you shouldn't and you have serious problems. Sleepwalking and Stairs present such a hazard. It is the fear of every parent whose kids sleep upstairs.

One of the great things about being a parent is bedtime. So it was that two nights ago, after getting the kids in bed, Tina and I settled into the family room to relax and watch the Winter Olympic games from Torino, Italy. We thrilled at the speed of Men's Short Track Speed Skating; we wondered at the grace of Ice Dancing; we perched on the edge of the couch at the nail-biting action of Women's Curling. That's when we heard the first hint that someone was not in bed anymore.

In just a matter of seconds, Wyatt appeared at the entrance to the family room. He pinched the "love handle" region of this sleep shirt and proudly proclaimed, "I got it". It took the trained eye of a parent only a micro second to realize that as far as he knew, he was still in bed, despite having navigated two doorways and approximately 15 stairs. Tina sprung into action and began to escort him back to his room to his warnings of, "Don't touch it!" I followed, knowing this was going to be a very humorous few minutes. As we entered his room, he all but launched into his bed from several feet away and began to snuggle in. I thought it was over. I was wrong.

Knowing that Wyatt sleeps better with his little stuffed Grover (the fuzzy blue guy from Sesame Street) I approached him to get his covers and his gear situated. As I brushed past the foot of his bed the sat up and began telling me to "Touch it" while pointing to the spare pillow at his feet. We played a modified game of "Guess What I'm Pointing At" until I held up the pillow and said, "I got it, man" He seemed happy with that and again, headed for slumber land. The next mistake was mine. I quietly asked, "Where's Grover?" He began looking around frantically until I pulled his friend out from under his bed and placed it next to him. Happily he turned to his soundly sleeping sister and said, "It's OK Livi. They found it!" As he laid his head on his pillow, I put my arms around him to ensure he was comfy and asleep before heading downstairs again. Tina was assisting in all this my laughing silently in the corner. As he again closed his eyes, I thought it was over. I was wrong.

Within seconds of assuming a prime sleeping posture Wyatt's hand began to unexplainably wander skyward until he looked like a kid in school wanting his teacher's attention. Then the hand began running circles around his wrist in a "Come here, Mom." kind of motion. As Tina approached to assume cuddling duties Wyatt looked straight at me and said, "You know what I want? Go get yours and put it by the door!" To the trained ear of a parent, this made no sense at all. So I moved away to allow Tina to work her fairy-sleep-dust magic on the "sleeping" little boy. And within a couple of hours, it was over.

Or so I thought.

Preparation Is Key

Once a month, the boys and I make a regular trip into the back woods of Lake County. Our destination, the shooting range in the Knoxville Recreation area near the border of Lake County and Napa County. It's very rural, very beautiful, and is home to a simple shooting range that most people have no idea exists. There are benches set up. You bring your own targets and blast away.

We will typically bring my Mini 14 (.223 cal or 5.56mm for Brad), M4 (another .223 cal), Glock 27 (a compact .40 cal), and Glock 22 (full size .40 cal). With LOTS of ammunition. Typically, we bring cokes, chips, and snacks, and have several hours of "guy time" enjoying the relaxation of guns and the great outdoors.

Each trip to the range begins with a discussion on safety, i.e. no loaded weapons when someone else is shooting. All weapons are left on the truck while someone is shooting.

Until recently, Drew has been a bit intimidated by the M4. It's a very scary looking piece of equipment. But I showed him how very little it kicks by placing the but to my groin and pulling the trigger. Since then he has just loved shooting the gun.

Nick, now there's another story. Nick has an amazing sense with guns. He is both comfortable and respectful. He listen's intently, and is very good.

I don't usually just set up targets and just shoot. I put the boys through some scenarios with practical shoot. Moving from points of cover, while engaging the bad guys.

It's quite a bonding moment.

That'th Five

It is a moment all parents look forward to. Baths were taken, teeth were brushed, waxy little ears were fresh and clean. We sat back to catch our collective breath and quietly watch the USA take the gold and silver in the Olympic Half-pipe in Torino, Italy. All was still, the house was warm, and the atmosphere ripe with impending slumber for all.

Then came a faint thud on the ceiling. It was the unmistakeable sound of small feet hitting carpet. Within seconds Olivia came running down the stairs with more than a hint of excitement in her voice. She knew she was not to be out of bed but this was too important and exciting not to be a valid excuse for breaking bedtime protocol. With what sounded like a laugh covered sentence or a phrase covered giggle she said, "Dad, it'th hanging by jutht one thread." When she hit the bottom of the stairs she took a step or two, planted her feet as if preparing for a titanic struggle, and reached for her mouth. There was no turning back. She stood there for just a few seconds with a look of concentration and joy plastered across her face and then exclaimed with the joy of a child on Christmas Morning, "I got it! That makth five!"

She laughed and danced and yammered on as only Olivia can before heading back up stairs to prepare for the inevitable arrival of the Tooth Fairy. Moments later, she was asleep and the house was again quiet...for a while!