Oh, man, what a bad night's sleep. It wasn't up there with, for example, the night in the hospital after one of my c-sections, when I spent all night feeding one twin while the other one cried, then switching so the crying one was being fed and the fed one was crying, until 4:00 a.m. when the nurse took them to the nursery, and then she brought them back at 4:20 a.m. and I am not even kidding, saying they were hungry, so that I watched incredulously as the sun came up and I STILL hadn't slept after SURGERY 24 HOURS EARLIER.
But as we know, an experience does not have to be The Worst Anyone Has Ever Experienced in order to qualify as Bad, and last night was still Bad. Elizabeth joined us around 11:00, and Henry joined us at 2:00. I'd gone back to sleep after Elizabeth, despite the way she kept flipping over so that first her hair was in my face and then she turned over and started kicking me and then back to the hair in my face, but Henry talked for awhile about avian dinosaurs, and once he'd gone to sleep I lay awake fretting about assorted financial stuff, my parents' eventual decrepitude, Paul's mother's estate (WHEN will it be settled, WHEN?), my overdue GYN check-up, and the time my landlord wouldn't refund my security deposit OR a month's rent I'd paid in advance, with him saying I'd left tons of boxes in the apartment all month (I HAD NOT) and adding that if I wanted money I should "get a job" (I HAD ONE) (also: MY EMPLOYMENT OR LACK THEREOF HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT).
Around 3:45 I felt too claustrophobic to lie there even ONE MORE MINUTE: we have my side of the bed directly against a wall while we rearrange the house, and so I was trapped between the wall and a bed crammed full of snoring people, and I had to get OUT OUT OUT AAAAAAAAAA. I couldn't find my blanket in the dark closet, and both throws are on our bed but in between other blankets so not easily extracted, so I put on Paul's wool coat and lay down in a recliner. The coat was itchy but warm, and a cat came and hopped up on me, and I had jusssst drifted off to sleep when the clock chimed six. And I thought, "It can't be six o'clock. I can keep sleeping. I KNOW it's not six, because it was 3:45 less than fifteen minutes ago." But then I started thinking, "What if it REALLY IS six o'clock? Then Paul will be late for work, and Rob will miss the bus and I'll have to drop him off at school and it will cheese up our whole morning." So I had to get up and check, and no, it was four o'clock and the children had been playing with the clock.
I settled back into the recliner and thought for awhile about the time in high school when a friend of mine heard a rumor that I'd slept with my boyfriend and she confronted me about it, and her attitude was that if I HAD done so, then I was absolutely required to have divulged that to her, and that she had every right to feel I'd violated our friendship, and that it didn't really matter if I denied it because the rumor-spreader had no reason to lie. When MY points were (1) I HADN'T, but (2) if I HAD, I would have had the perfect right to keep that sort of thing private, and (3) the whole "girlfriends before boyfriends" thing did not mean my relationship with her was in fact closer than my relationship with my boyfriend OR that I had to tell her everything about my relationship with him, and (4) where's the whole "girlfriends before rumor-spreaders" part? Then I dozed off and dreamed that Rob had left the freezer door open and everything had thawed out and had to be thrown away, including two cartons of Breyer's ice cream, and when I was speaking to him about it he was defending himself and rolling his eyes and blaming other people and making the kind of insult-humor backtalk we're currently training him to see is not the same as "just joking," and in short behaved pretty much exactly how he would have in real life, except that in the dream I started trying to HIT him, and my arms were too weak and it was very frustrating.
Then the STUPID CLOCK chimed the quarter-hour and it was 4:15 and I was awake again. And I needed to pee. I got up and peed, and returned to the chair, and was just drifting off when I heard a cat making a "covering" sound behind my chair. I didn't get up to investigate, but instead listened so hard I woke myself up entirely and started mentally composing a post about how St. Valentine's Day is not in fact a Hallmark holiday and it's very tiresome to keep hearing it called that in scornful tones year after year by person after person, and then I fell asleep and dreamed I was trying to load the dishwasher but the cups wouldn't stay upside down. And then a cat went skittering across the hardwood in pursuit of another cat skittering across the hardwood, and it was 4:30.
So then I sat in the recliner thinking about how nothing I ever try to do ever works: not weight loss, not exercise programs, not psychological improvement programs, not "trying to be a person who likes social stuff," not stopping pulling my eyelashes out, not keeping the house clean, NOTHING. It took me until 5:00 to remember that other things HAVE worked: maintaining a blog, having children, investing in the stock market, paying off our student loans years early. I fell asleep and woke up at 5:18 when Paul got up for work. I lay there feeling very sorry for myself and needing to pee, until I got up at 5:45 to take my own shower.
But have I mentioned our old water heater broke and we replaced it with a new one with a feature that lets it heat the water much hotter while still preventing scalding by mixing it with cool as it leaves the heater? This increases the hot water supply without increasing the tank size. Which means that I had a HOT SHOWER.
Also I still have a lot of See's chocolates to taste and to report on.
Also the house-rearranging is going very well, so that I am now writing in a bright lilac room.
Life-improving products, part 4 - (Continued from part 1, part 2, and part 3.) Stearns Youth Life Vest (photo from Amazon.com). I’d been too scared to take the kids to any body of water oth...