Another All-Nighter

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September 28, 2009 by Marj Hatzell

I was never a night person, always a morning person. I’m typically passed out COLD before ten most nights. I can bounce out of bed seconds after the alarm goes off. Once I’m up, I’m up.  There’s no lazing about in bed for moi. That said, I do NOT exactly appreciate waking up at two  I mean, it’s morning. I get it.  It’s technically morning.  I’d much rather be asleep and wake up at, let’s say, six? Seven?  Anything but two o’clock.

Apparently Bugaboo did NOT get memo.  Even with sleep meds (because he does not sleep at all without them) he has been waking up in the wee hours. And staying awake.  Most nights I can coax him into my bed, flip on Thomas and he’s drifting off to sleep before the episode is over.  Nights like last night?  He grabs my face and signs, “Cookie.  Cracker.  Drink. Car.” or anything in between. In some respects, I’m excited that he can communicate what he wants so clearly.  He WANTS something and he can tell me.  He’ll go get it for himself if I do not move in about thirty seconds (or less). I can often tell him to stay put and bring him a snack.  Last night?  Wasn’t buying it.  We watched all six episodes of Thomas on demand, some of them three times each.  And he never fell back to sleep.

Which means Mommy never fell back to sleep.

Which means Mommy was very, very happy to put him on the bus this morning.  Yes, I send him to school when he doesn’t sleep. If he doesn’t go to school, I don’t sleep, you dig? And?  When he doesn’t sleep?  He often has the best day he’s ever had.  As in, if I didn’t tell them that he didn’t sleep they would have never guessed.  He’s funny like that.

Me?  Without sleep I’m incoherent, cannot follow conversations, cannot retrieve words from the dusty, cobwebbed portions of my brain. I cannot chew because it takes too much effort to think.  Not even potatoes, if you can believe that. My legs hurt.  I’m glazed over.  I don’t answer the phone because I cannot remember how to answer it. I have very little patience. I cannot cook dinner.  I’m a total loser.  This is why I’m glad that I get to stay home for a living. I wouldn’t be able to hack this no-sleep thingy for long. Lucky for me, I can take naps.  When I can take naps, that is. Today I’m going to have to beg the Bug Boy (who is off for a Jewish Holiday.  Yes, you get off when over 50% of your school district is Jewish) to let me sleep. And not come to wake me up.  In other words, bribe him with electronical thingies.  And hope that he doesn’t come upstairs thirty times to tell me he beat level sixteen or that he got the bad guy or that he knows how to spell inauguration or that he beat smarter than a fifth grader AGAIN or that he read all sixteen books we got out of the library and he’s bored or…

Let’s also hope that the puppies get the message and let me sleep. Of course, it’s veggie day. That means they will wake me up barking and growling every time someone walks onto the porch to grab their shares.  I’ll try not to growl at the dogs for growling at the people.  I’ll also try not to growl at my family when they hit my last remaining nerve.  I’ll also try not to break down crying in front of people.  I’m awesome like that.

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