I’m not a good sleeper. Never have been, probably never will be. The Husband, on the other hand, is a world-class sleeper. I’m convinced that the question, “Do you promise to do everything in your power to ensure a good night’s sleep for your spouse?” should be added to all wedding ceremonies.
My most recent list of night-time grievances:
- Air conditioning. I wake up when it switches on (too cold). I wake up when it switches off (too hot.). On. Off. On. Off. Awake every @#&*! time. After a couple of weeks of near-100 degree temperatures, thank heavens the last two nights have been cool enough to have the windows open or I’d be a member of the walking dead.
- The miraculous CPAP machine. Its entry into our life (and our bed) made an instantaneous difference in my husband’s alertness and health, so I can’t knock it too seriously. Sleep apnea is no joke. But the obnoxious symphony of sounds it makes is a light sleeper’s nightmare. The tube squeaks. The gasket around the mask occasionally makes fart noises to rival a room full of 7th grade boys. As the night wears on and more forced air is required, I would swear Darth Vader himself was in my bed. Darth is not exactly my fantasy guy.
- 3:00 a.m. pounding on the door. This actually happened while we were in Baltimore, settling Oldest Sister into her new home two weeks ago. It’s a pleasant row house, but the very urban neighborhood is slightly sketchy, and our familiar Midwestern suburbs it’s definitely not. I was a little on edge to begin with, sleeping in a new place. But when the 3 a.m. pounding started, I think I leapt five feet into the air from my troubled air-mattress-on-the-floor sleep. The pounding continued for what seemed like hours and I lay there thinking, “What do we do? Is this just the status quo in this neighborhood? Why in God’s name is this not waking up The Husband?!?” One of the roommates finally got up and dealt with the pounding, which fact freaked me out in itself – who answers the door at 3 a.m.? The mystery was solved in the morning when we discovered that the escapade was due to an airline’s inexplicable need to deliver the lost baggage of roommate #3 IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. Strangely, this knowledge did not help me sleep any better the following night.
With The Boy now off living his new college life, one sleep-depriving factor is gone – his last few weeks at home he was out with friends past midnight pretty much every single night. Of course, now I lie awake and think about how much I miss him and Oldest Sister.
Time for another cup of coffee…