I haven’t been sleeping well. I blame Husband — the children are too innocent to blame. Even though every night for like … days, they have taken turns messing with me at night. ONE had an accident and I had to change his sheets. TWO’s gums hurt and he wouldn’t stop crying. Or the real doozy, he (TWO) woke up screaming every hour, on the hour, from 1:30 a.m. until 5:30 a.m.
Despite this, I can’t turn on my own children in this situation or I fear I’d lock myself in my room and tell them to make their own damn breakfast … clearly not appropriate. So I am turning my focus on Husband and blaming him entirely.
Sometime in the night, I was in a deep sleep and he (also asleep) poked me in the armpit hard enough to wake me up. I remember yelling, and him saying, “I’m SORRY!” before going back to snoring. Then, at 4:30 a.m. the baby started crying, which woke me up … but then he stopped. However, Husband was snoring SO FREAKING LOUD, I couldn’t go back to sleep even after shoving my earplugs deeper into my ears. I sat up in bed and said “Why are you snoring so loud, GRANDPA? Are we going to have to sleep in separate beds?” To which he replied, “ZZZZZZZZZZZZ.“
At 5:20 I gave up and wandered into the living room, where I encountered an empty cereal bowl (I bet that is why he was snoring so loud … dairy) and two tufts of belly button hair/lint on the floor that I thought were large spiders. I grouchily picked the tufts up. I grouchily put the bowl in the sink. And then … I found a tiny dead frog who had been stepped on, right in front of our refrigerator. That is when I had a quiet little freakout.
At some point today, Husband is going to ask me “Why are YOU so grumpy??” or say to the kids, “Mommy’s a grumpy pants.” And I will turn to him with crazy eyes and say “YES. Yes, I am a grumpy pants. You people are TORTURING me.” And he is going to look at me with that look that says, “Women are crazy. There she goes again … acting crazy.” That is when I’ll direct him to this blog entry.
My plan for the remainder of the morning: I am going on an extra-long walk as soon as the sun comes up. I hope both children are awake, yelling in his ears, and climbing on him when I return. I hope ONE is jumping on the bed and TWO has removed his diaper again and is peeing somewhere random. I hope no one is wearing pajamas. And if this is happening, I will go directly to the bathroom and take the longest, loudest shower I can muster to drown out the calls for help.
hahahaaa! I SO feel your pain. I also suffer from the living-with-a-snorer syndrome. And I may possibly also wish for crazy, terribly behaved children for my husband on the rare occasion when I escape from the house on my own.