Time-Lock Kid

Here are two seemingly unrelated stories, however, if you know me, then you know that I can find a link between anything.

Story 1
Do you know that bank vaults are on a time lock? Perhaps this will deter some would-be bank robbers (although I've been wrong before). For those who don't know what that sign on the door of 7-Eleven means when it says, "Time Lock Safe in Place," it means that there's basically a mechanical clock/timer on the safe. It can only be opened after a certain time. Even if you know the combination, the thing won't open unless it's within the allotted time window. The whole point is to deter criminals from trying to rob the place, because no one can open it.

Story 2
A friend recently told me about an issue she had with the neighbors underneath her. Around 4:30 in the morning their 3 year old started beating a drum. She went downstairs to complain, but no one answered the door. Shortly after, the drumming stopped. The next day, the drum was sitting out front in the trash.

What's the Point?
There comes a time in every parent's life when their kid wakes up at the most inopportune time. Scholars call this moment "everyday." It starts when you bring them home from the hospital. They don't even sleep when they're that young. They just have extended blinking sessions. By the time they cross the burning sands to preschool age, you're so used to not sleeping that you welcome any distraction that will buy you a few extra minutes of sleep that you can get your hands on, even a drum.

My daughter woke up at 5:30 this morning. Today is Sunday. Even God rested on Sunday. I remember being in a deep sleep, then being stabbed in the face with the pointy end of a tube of Aquaphor. I'm guessing my daughter didn't feel like climbing onto the bed and I was too far back for her to just "CHARLIE MURPHY!!!" me. She used the tube to poke me in the face until I woke up. Then I heard, "BATHROOM!"

I took her to the bathroom and then had to make the critical war decision of whether or not to risk putting her back in her bed. It was 5:30, so technically she had eight hours of sleep by that point. Her bed...well, it sucks. It's a toddler bed and anything that can be put together in 15 minutes with an Allen wrench and good intentions probably sucks. My bed, on the other hand, is a rejuvenation chamber. It heals broken bones and cures the sick. If I let her lay in the bed with me then she'd definitely fall back to sleep.

If you don't have a kid, then you probably think it was a no brainer. There are no easy victories in war. Both sides always end up losing something. In my case, it's called a rib cage. I put her in the bed with me once before and I still have those footprints on my lungs to prove it.

Desperate, I said what the hell and put her in the bed with me, only she wasn't tired. I fell right back to sleep almost instantly, but she didn't. I woke up two minutes later to her lifting my upper lip and counting my teeth. "Stop." Then I woke up to a finger in my ear. "STOP!" Finally, I woke up to her arching my eyebrows with the talons on her hands.

I reached over and handed her anything I could find on the nightstand without opening my eyes: A brush, a phone charger, a tube of chapstick and finally I unlocked my phone and told her to go crazy.

I really wish kids had a time-lock feature like those safes I was talking about. I can't imagine what it would be like to set the combination and just put her in the bed with the comfort of knowing that she wouldn't wake up for any reason until she got the full 12 hours of sleep that the parenting books lie and say she'll have each night.