Jonathan Christopher...

As long as you live, you may never fully comprehend just how in love with you I am...and have been from day one.

But as long as I live, I'll surely never comprehend what makes you tick. You have, no doubt, thrown me some curve-balls in your first two years...and with each one, I become a better mommy. Of this I am certain.

But lately, Jonathan? Lately?

You're killing me.

And I'm not referring to your antics during meals, your destruction of your brother's toys, your obsession with "buttons!" (but only the ones on our DVD player, stereo or computer)...no, I am not referring to the many ways in which you make me scramble on a given day.

I'm talking specifically about what you've been cookin up at night.

And by "night" I mean any time between the hours of 1 and 5am.

Of course, I get the fact that you're cutting your molars...and that most kids, at different stages of development, go through nighttime wakings. But most of these kids, Jonathan, are suffering from some kind of bad dream, sickness, or just your run-of-the-mill mommy separation.

Not you, though. Not even a sore gum or two could be causing your latest adventures. Why am I certain of this? Because not once, in the past few weeks (oh shit, maybe it's even months) have you:

1. cried for mommy

2. been visibly sick/ had a fever

3. been the least bit troubled at all

However, you have been fairly consistent with the following:

1. climbing out of your crib

2. playing with random toys in your room

3. climbing into and sitting quietly in the bathtub

4. bum-rushing your brother's bed and throwing yourself on top of him...thus waking the world's LEAST RECEPTIVE 3 year old to sleep interruption

5. sitting in your glider chair and singing...and lately, counting (we're proud of this new skill, but not at 4 in the morning, big guy)

6. and my favorite, as of last night: sitting in your blue Thomas chair in the middle of the kitchen.

I am glad, Jonathan, that you are not sick or going through some sort of emotional ordeal. For this, I am surely grateful. But for the love of God, my sweet boy...WHAT is happening during your slumber that says to you--"This shit's gettin old...gonna go see what's happenin round here..."??????

And I love the independence, I really do. The fact that I've found you in/involved with items 1 through 6 is evidence enough of your independent spirit. Not once have your daddy and I seen the whites of your eyes peering at us in our bed, asking for attention.

But by now I'm past the point of concern or worry...or even sheer frustration.

I'm just f***ing tired.

Tired.

Exhausted.

Spent.

And also kind of amazed. And...ok...giggling a bit on the inside (though I'll NEVER let on).

But mostly?

I'm just really, really tired.