I can’t remember the last full night of sleep that I’ve had. In fact, I’m not sure that I’ve ever had one. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a light sleeper. It’s not uncommon for me to wake up 3-4 times a night for a trip to the bathroom, a glass of water, or even just to fluff my pillow and/or adjust my blankets.
Those 3-4 times a night don’t include trips in to see “the boy” either. Unfortunately, I’m fearful that he has inherited my sleeping habits as it’s fairly common for him to wake up 1-2 times a night. Sometimes he just fusses a bit and goes back to bed without any assistance. Sometimes, he’ll call for Carol or I to go to his room. He usually doesn’t need anything other than to be covered up or to be handed a stuffed animal that may have fallen on the floor. I know we’re not supposed to go in there every time he cries, but since I’m up so often at night, it really doesn’t affect me in the least.
Normally, this might be a big deal, but it’s fairly easy for me to fall back asleep after each of these occurrences. My body has become accustomed to sleep deprivation and actually revolts if I get too much sleep. “Sleeping in” for me on the weekends is basically me sleeping until 9:00 – and I have to force myself to do that. Even then, when I get out of bed I usually have a headache and my entire body is sore. Now that could either be from too much sleep or from the drinking that I may have done the night before that required me to sleep until 9:00 in the first place. I vote for the first one.
But I digress.
Last night I was awakened, as expected, by Ben at around 1:30 calling “I want my daddy.” Like I said before, I’m a sucker for being called “daddy” so of course I made my way into his room to see what he wanted. I found him sitting upright in bed crying. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me that he didn’t know, but he stopped crying which was good. I then told him that it was late and we needed to go back to sleep. That usually works and he reacts accordingly. Not last night. When I told him that it was time to go back to sleep, he simply looked at me and in a serious but not disobedient way and said “no.”
It wasn’t as if he was defying me, he just looked at me in a very matter of fact way as if to say, “Yes father, I have thought this over considerably and after leaning this way and then that, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have slumbered all that I desire this evening and I now wish to get up, frolic around the room, and amuse myself with my toys.”
This didn’t bode well for me.
While Ben is a great combination of Carol and myself, he definitely got her sense of, well let’s just call it “determination.” He had his mind made up that he didn’t want to sleep anymore and damnit, he wasn’t going to. Luckily, as I tried to convince him to fall back asleep, I noticed that his eyelids were very heavy and he kept laying his head down on his pillow. Seeing the opportunity to use this to my advantage, I began rubbing his back which will almost always knock him out. After a few attempts at rubbing his back, watching him fall asleep, leaving the room, and closing the door only to make it 3 steps before the crying began again, re-entering the room and starting the process over agin, I was finally able to get him to fall asleep for what I hoped was the remainder of the night. I made my way back to the bedroom, slid in next to Carol (who has the amazing ability to sleep through anything) and went back to sleep.
*BOOM*
Around 3:30 or so, I was awakened by what sounded like WWIII outside my bedroom window. At first the flashing lights, heavy gunfire and gasping for air startled me, but then I realized that it was only a severe thunderstorm with heavy lightening, thunder, and a good amount of hail. I can’t remember such a light show from a storm in my life. It was if the entire night sky was eternally illuminated due to the repeated lightning strikes going on all around us. Of course with lightning, you also get the accompanying thunder. And with as much lightning as there was, there was a ton of thunder. And it was loud. It was so loud, in fact, that it even woke up Carol Van Winkle. We both got out of bed to look at the storm and were surprised, yet excited, to see hail (we need a new roof).
“But what was the gasping for air sound that you mentioned Scott?”
I’m glad you asked.
The gasping for air was actually panting. Heavy panting. No, not that kind – perverts. This is the kind of heavy panting that comes from the 60lb furry beast sitting next to my bed who’s job it is to “protect” us. The heavy panting was coming from Tina.
Tina has always been scared of storms and last night was no different. She immediately starts panting and whining and if no one’s leg is readily available for her to attach herself to, she will find the most remote corner of the house and curl up into the smallest ball that her overweight body will allow. Normally, once the storm is over, she stops the panting and whining and everything is fine. Not last night. No, last night I was not meant to get any sleep.
Even after the storm passed, Tina lay on her big pillow in the corner of our room panting. Loudly. I tried to ignore it, but it was really annoying.I tried to verbally reassure her that everything was okay, but the panting continued. I got out of bed to pet her and put her at ease, but still, the panting continued. I dragged her out of the room by her goddamned collar and told her to shut the hell up or I’d make her sleep outside like a real dog, felt bad, gave her a hug, let her come back into the bedroom, got back in bed to try and fall asleep, but still the panting continued.
As I lay in bed at 5:00 am, still awake and listening to the rain, the panting, and the relaxed breaths of my deeply sleeping wife, I began counting down the hours until I had to wake up for work. The counting must have done the trick as when my alarm went off at 7:00 am, I was actually awoken from sleep. I looked over at Carol sleeping soundly. I noticed that Tina was out cold on her pillow sawing logs. And, I didn’t hear a peep coming out of Ben’s room which was a good sign that he’d probably sleep until 8:00 this morning, which is always a good thing. I was so jealous.
I don’t think I have a point to all of this. I really think that I just wanted to whine. I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I don’t have anything to write about for my blog today. As a result, you’re stuck with this and I don't care how many run on sentences I have. I don't feel like editing anything. Deal with it.
Those 3-4 times a night don’t include trips in to see “the boy” either. Unfortunately, I’m fearful that he has inherited my sleeping habits as it’s fairly common for him to wake up 1-2 times a night. Sometimes he just fusses a bit and goes back to bed without any assistance. Sometimes, he’ll call for Carol or I to go to his room. He usually doesn’t need anything other than to be covered up or to be handed a stuffed animal that may have fallen on the floor. I know we’re not supposed to go in there every time he cries, but since I’m up so often at night, it really doesn’t affect me in the least.
Normally, this might be a big deal, but it’s fairly easy for me to fall back asleep after each of these occurrences. My body has become accustomed to sleep deprivation and actually revolts if I get too much sleep. “Sleeping in” for me on the weekends is basically me sleeping until 9:00 – and I have to force myself to do that. Even then, when I get out of bed I usually have a headache and my entire body is sore. Now that could either be from too much sleep or from the drinking that I may have done the night before that required me to sleep until 9:00 in the first place. I vote for the first one.
But I digress.
Last night I was awakened, as expected, by Ben at around 1:30 calling “I want my daddy.” Like I said before, I’m a sucker for being called “daddy” so of course I made my way into his room to see what he wanted. I found him sitting upright in bed crying. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me that he didn’t know, but he stopped crying which was good. I then told him that it was late and we needed to go back to sleep. That usually works and he reacts accordingly. Not last night. When I told him that it was time to go back to sleep, he simply looked at me and in a serious but not disobedient way and said “no.”
It wasn’t as if he was defying me, he just looked at me in a very matter of fact way as if to say, “Yes father, I have thought this over considerably and after leaning this way and then that, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have slumbered all that I desire this evening and I now wish to get up, frolic around the room, and amuse myself with my toys.”
This didn’t bode well for me.
While Ben is a great combination of Carol and myself, he definitely got her sense of, well let’s just call it “determination.” He had his mind made up that he didn’t want to sleep anymore and damnit, he wasn’t going to. Luckily, as I tried to convince him to fall back asleep, I noticed that his eyelids were very heavy and he kept laying his head down on his pillow. Seeing the opportunity to use this to my advantage, I began rubbing his back which will almost always knock him out. After a few attempts at rubbing his back, watching him fall asleep, leaving the room, and closing the door only to make it 3 steps before the crying began again, re-entering the room and starting the process over agin, I was finally able to get him to fall asleep for what I hoped was the remainder of the night. I made my way back to the bedroom, slid in next to Carol (who has the amazing ability to sleep through anything) and went back to sleep.
*BOOM*
Around 3:30 or so, I was awakened by what sounded like WWIII outside my bedroom window. At first the flashing lights, heavy gunfire and gasping for air startled me, but then I realized that it was only a severe thunderstorm with heavy lightening, thunder, and a good amount of hail. I can’t remember such a light show from a storm in my life. It was if the entire night sky was eternally illuminated due to the repeated lightning strikes going on all around us. Of course with lightning, you also get the accompanying thunder. And with as much lightning as there was, there was a ton of thunder. And it was loud. It was so loud, in fact, that it even woke up Carol Van Winkle. We both got out of bed to look at the storm and were surprised, yet excited, to see hail (we need a new roof).
“But what was the gasping for air sound that you mentioned Scott?”
I’m glad you asked.
The gasping for air was actually panting. Heavy panting. No, not that kind – perverts. This is the kind of heavy panting that comes from the 60lb furry beast sitting next to my bed who’s job it is to “protect” us. The heavy panting was coming from Tina.
Tina has always been scared of storms and last night was no different. She immediately starts panting and whining and if no one’s leg is readily available for her to attach herself to, she will find the most remote corner of the house and curl up into the smallest ball that her overweight body will allow. Normally, once the storm is over, she stops the panting and whining and everything is fine. Not last night. No, last night I was not meant to get any sleep.
Even after the storm passed, Tina lay on her big pillow in the corner of our room panting. Loudly. I tried to ignore it, but it was really annoying.I tried to verbally reassure her that everything was okay, but the panting continued. I got out of bed to pet her and put her at ease, but still, the panting continued. I dragged her out of the room by her goddamned collar and told her to shut the hell up or I’d make her sleep outside like a real dog, felt bad, gave her a hug, let her come back into the bedroom, got back in bed to try and fall asleep, but still the panting continued.
As I lay in bed at 5:00 am, still awake and listening to the rain, the panting, and the relaxed breaths of my deeply sleeping wife, I began counting down the hours until I had to wake up for work. The counting must have done the trick as when my alarm went off at 7:00 am, I was actually awoken from sleep. I looked over at Carol sleeping soundly. I noticed that Tina was out cold on her pillow sawing logs. And, I didn’t hear a peep coming out of Ben’s room which was a good sign that he’d probably sleep until 8:00 this morning, which is always a good thing. I was so jealous.
I don’t think I have a point to all of this. I really think that I just wanted to whine. I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I don’t have anything to write about for my blog today. As a result, you’re stuck with this and I don't care how many run on sentences I have. I don't feel like editing anything. Deal with it.
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