It is common knowledge that babies don’t sleep well. If you are lucky enough to have a baby who sleeps through the night, blessings should be tallied and wood should be knocked upon. So when I (with an 8 month old son at the home front) state that I have had all of 2 full nights of sleep in the past 8 months, it should really be no surprise to anyone. And from my viewpoint, because I’ve already been through the baby stage with one child, it’s expected.
What I didn’t expect, however, was the severe sleep apnea I developed while just a few months pregnant with Critter. It left me sitting straight up in bed and gasping for air on at least an hourly basis throughout much of my pregnancy. Coupled by the fact that I was horribly uncomfortable, and the many trips to the bathroom each night, I was already severely sleep deprived when Critter actually joined our odd but happy little family. So that brings my tally up to about 2 good nights of sleep in over a year.
Contrary to popular belief, stay at home motherhood is not all naps and sitting on the couch while wearing short skirts, high heals and eating chocolate truffles. I think my weekly nap average is about 1. I would take more naps, but generally that is the time I try to get at least something accomplished with things like dishes. Sometimes on Sundays when Bonehead is busy hogging our only TV that can be watched without the pain of a workout attached with his football marathon, I will call forfeit and take a nap with Critter.
Which is exactly what I attempted to do Sunday because I had a little time before we had to pack the family up and head out to support Bonehead at his second official CycloCross race. Critter had other things in mind as he played in bed next to me, fighting sleep with every ounce of his little critterly body. And as I lay there next to him reading (impatiently waiting for his crossover to dreamland) I took occasional glimpses at my watch and started to feel the time for a real nap sliding away. I could hear the time loudly in my ears- the tics and tocks crescendoing to deafening decimals in my imagination, and frustration building below my surface of calm, cool (which others may perceive as snippety snarkiness although I have ABSOLUTELY no clue why) collectedness.
I wanted that nap so bad I was ready to make all kinds of crazy promises to Bonehead so that I could obtain one. To me, a good chunk of sleep is more valuable than spun gold because, well, I could actually use it.
Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to barter favors with the hubby because Critter’s eyes began the slow decent to sleepy time. I threw a quick dog ear in my book, a fleeting desperate glance at my watch (by this point I was down to about 40 minutes of sleep available before I had to get moving again) and hunkered down for my own trip to dreamland.
I did wake up once and check my watch to see how much longer I had. I had a whole 20 more minutes before whirlwind time, so I rolled over, fluffed my pillows, and drifted back into oblivion.
The next thing I know there is a giant yell from the living room (which is right next to the bedroom due to the fact we live in a bungalow with no hallway) that leaves me levitating 6 inches off the bed and shaking like a 5.9 on the Richter scale. So next I do the most obvious thing in the world- I yell in utter desperation and with absolute urgency, “John! What!”
Which in turn wakes up critter from his nap, leaving me shaking, levitating, and with a crying baby at my side. I looked at my watch at that point, and I still had 10 minutes left to sleep. My nap had been violently interrupted, so I got out of bed to see what the great emergency was.
Bonehead was watching the Bears game on TV. And amid the death ray glare I gave him, he tried to justify his actions. I really don’t follow football all that closely, so what I heard sounded much like, “something something something, ball, something something, touch down.” And at that point they were replaying the play on the screen, so my visual was enforced as well. Something happened and there was a touchdown.
Yeah. Whoopee. I love my hubby and I try to be understanding of the football thing- I even try to watch occasionally and ask questions in an attempt at interest. But COME ON! I had 10 whole minutes more to sleep.
Because I love my hubby so much, (almost as much as I love making lists) I thought I might include a list of reasons for which he should scream at the top of his lungs on a Sunday Afternoon while his wife is sleeping:
1. There is phalange loss on one of our spawn.
2. There is a 75% off sale in the home goods department at TJ Maxx.
3. A bomb has just exploded at our local Portillo’s.
4. We currently have a camel invasion in our living room.
5. Aliens have landed and are poking and prodding at him in order to discover the chemical make-up of his anarchy tattoo.
6. He has been so overcome by the need to massage my shoulders and back he simply can not contain himself.
I fully intend to shrink the list for him and tape it to the back of our remote control, so that in the future, should he feel the need to yell during a Sunday afternoon nap, he can check the valid reasons first. Hopefully this course of action will insure at least a few extra moments of sleep for his wife.
19 minutes ago