It is 4:30 in the morning. I should be sleeping. I was sleeping. Quite soundly and quite peacefully. For four hours. Then, Ben decides to go and have an I-ate-a-McDonald's burger-at-9:45 p.m. induced nightmare at 2:45 this morning and cry out, loudly and more than once, in his sleep. Scared the bejesus out of me and woke me UP. And now, here I sit. Awake and churning.
Now I will admit, the McDonald's is sort of my fault. Not much sounds good to me in terms of food right now beyond potatoes, so I have been requesting spuds in various formats for the last week or so. Last night, I settled for a large fry picked up on his way home from watching a basketball game (did I mention our eating out budget always takes a hit in my first trimester? I get tired and lazy and hungry for fries. Fast food is way too convenient to cover all of these bases). But I am not the one who ate the nasty burger and caused all the commotion. Oh, no. And I am also not the one who mumbled "What's going on?" after getting elbowed out of a bad dream and then proceeded to roll over, go back to sleep, and start snoring. Oh, no. Not me. By the way - is that a guy thing? The whole head hits the pillow and out thing? How annoying.
Me? I tossed and turned for over an hour upstairs and then decided I needed a glass of chocolate milk, the only other thing that really sounds good to me these days. So I crept downstairs, got my milk, and decided to camp out on the couch in hopes that a change of scenery would help my shut my brain back off and get some more sleep. But instead I'm still just tossing and turning and being completely and irrationally mad at my poor husband who 1) didn't mean to do it and 2) has no idea I'm even down here. Plus I'm also thinking about Christmas travel, Christmas presents, craft projects, end of the semester grading, food, how much my stomach hurts, how tired I am, how whiny I sound, and how I wish, wish, wish I was sleeping right now.
See, the timing is SO unfair because this is a night when I should be sleeping well and all through the night because we are down one kid for the weekend. Mr. Harrison is off to Grandma and Grandpa's for a final farm visit before the holidays and that should mean lots of rest for Mama. Not that HD is ruining our sleep all the time; most nights he does just fine. But he is our one kid able to have free range in the dark and that means every morning starts by 5:45 (or sometimes earlier) thanks to a potty break, even though he comes in our room and then insists, loudly, when Ben gets up to help him, "I DON'T NEED TO POTTY." OK......Then why are you in here?! is what I say in my head each time this happens. Sure, Raegan occasionally makes noise in the night and wakes me, but she's contained to the crib and typically goes right back to sleep. But let me tell you, there's nothing like having the 3-yr-old barge into your room and then yell that he doesn't want to pee, all well before dawn, to really get the day going. I try, most days, to wake up and choose awesome. But seriously. Every girl's got her limit and my awesome would very much like to start at 6:30, thank you. And while I know that it is ultimately a good thing that HD doesn't want to wet his diaper that we still put on him for bed (hello - that IS the goal of potty training), at 3 or 5 or 6 AM on any given day, I really wish he would just take advantage of the flipping Pamper.
My consolation in all of this? It's now Saturday. Ben is home all day and he can run herd on Raegan for me while I nap all morning. Because eventually my brain will shut down and I will sleep again. It must!
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