I knew the minute I picked up Tony yesterday that I had made a grave error: I had written about him in a favorable light. On my blog. For everyone to read.
So I knew the rest of the evening would be a test of patience as well as an example of why most animals eat their young.
Now, he is always cranky on Monday evenings – as is Bryan, as am I – because we’re back into the swing of things. We’re tired, overtired most times, and we’re angry at the world. And last night was our Monday night, basically.
But I was UBER cranky. I was uber cranky because you know what? I HAVEN’T SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT IN PROBABLY ABOUT A YEAR.
Bryan snores. I love him, and I love sharing a bed with him for the most part, but the snoring is awful. And coupled with the fact that he is a Snuggler, the snoring is enough to rival the Tell-Tale Heart. (FIVE POINTS FOR A POE REFERENCE.) He’s not just across the bed and loud, he is IN YOUR EAR AND LOUD.
Which, okay, fine. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Well, I DO MIND, but hey. I can at least get some sleep on the couch. It’s not quality sleep, as I often have a chocolate lab in my face wondering WHATCHA DOIN? at all hours, but hey. I can manage.
Then there’s Tony. Tony has been going through what was a sleep regression but is now a full-blown justification for homicide. He wakes up two or three times a night, on average. I don’t know why he wakes up, but he wakes up, gets bored, and starts crying. WAILING. For me.
Now, Bryan has often said that he doesn’t hear this. And one night, after I’d already gotten up once, Tony stormed in our room, SCREAMING. Bryan sat up on his elbows, looked straight at him, and rolled over and went back to sleep. (In his defense, I don’t think he was awake.)(In my defense, I pulled some of his chest hairs out.)
So here is my nightly routine.
10:30 – go to bed.
11:00ish – fall asleep
1:00 – move to the couch
1:15 – WHATCHA DOIN, MOM HUMAN? WHATCHA DOIN
1:20 – fall asleep
2:30 – Tony’s first wake-up
2:45 – YOU’RE BACK, MOM HUMAN! WHATCHA DOIN NOW?
3:00 – fall asleep
4:00 – Tony’s second wake-up
4:15 – head back to my room
7:00 – Bryan’s alarm goes off
This has been going on since LAST SUMMER, guys. I am beyond tired. I don’t even know how I’m functioning, quite honestly. Occasionally I’ll get a nap on a weekend, or I’ll get to sleep late, and every now and again, Bryan sleeps in another room so I can get some sleep, but MY GOD. THIS IS SUITABLE FOR TORTURE. WHERE IS THE DAMN GENEVA CONVENTION IN MY HOUSE?
(I’m not sure that the Geneva Convention is even the right reference there because 1. Wikipedia is blacked out today in protest of #SOPA and #PIPA and 2. I HAVEN’T GOTTEN A LOT OF SLEEP LATELY.)
Someone, please tell me the magic trick to 1) make the snoring go away or 2) make Tony sleep through the night. I’ll take one or the other, honestly. But one of the penises in the house has to let me sleep before I go insane. I don’t think I’m asking a lot here.
(My MIL’s suggestion: “You should buy a four bedroom house.” YES, THANKS, THAT SEEMS REALISTIC.)
I am just really looking forward to a time when someone asks me how I’m doing and I don’t have to reply “I’m tired,” while drooling. That day should be coming in the next ten years or so, fingers crossed.