I’m pretty sure I have some sort of sleep disorder. But I don’t want to go to a sleep clinic, or take medication, so I suffer through the nights when I wake up at 3am. And watch the clock strike 4, 4.30, 5, 5.30 and 6.
I used to lie there, panicking that it was getting later and later. And that I was going to have to face three kids on as many hours of sleep. Now I’m just resigned. ‘I bet I’ve been awake for an hour already,’ I’ll think to myself. And I’ll look over at the clock. Sure enough. An hour.
Usually I’ll lie in bed until I fall asleep again. But this morning, as 3 turned into 5, I decided to get up. It was 7am in parts of America. Maybe something interesting had happened.
I logged onto facebook. To see if any of my friends had witty status updates.
Several of my friends have closed their facebook accounts. And I haven’t understood why. Did they not enjoy a bit of benign spying as much as the next person? Did they not enjoy pointless banter about library fines or children who empty whole bottles of liquid laundry detergent…on the floor?
But I get it now.
They closed their accounts because they grew tired of hearing how awesome other people’s lives are. It’s one thing to suspect that others are having more fun than you are. It’s another thing entirely to have confirmation – in the form of status updates. And photo albums.
One of my facebook friends seems to do nothing but go on vacation. One month it’s a skiing vacation. The next it’s a Caribbean cruise. Actually, it was less than a month between the two trips. But who’s keeping track?
Oh, yeah, ME.
Unless you count the awesome driving trips between Indiana and Calgary, (and I don’t) my last vacation was in 2007.
I was still in the middle of my pity party when the baby summoned me back upstairs. As if to say, ‘hey, I slept from 10.30-5.30, I’m starving up here!’
Since I was still awake, and he was too, I let him lie on our bed for a while. Playing a little pacifier dropping game. While inhaling his sour milk/neck lint smell. And being doused by two enormous baby sneezes.
Eventually the piglet tired of my attention, as if to say ‘this snuggling is fun and all, but I’m sleepy and want to go back to bed.’
So I deposited him in his crib. And, sometime after 6, I drifted off to the sweet sounds of two Johnson men snoring their hearts out.
It’s a pretty swell life. With a negligible chance of breaking a leg, or contracting food poisoning from a midnight buffet.