Middle Of The Night Shenanigans
Apparently my fight or flight instinct finally kicked in last night, as I found myself jumping up and out of the covers and landing on my knees in some sort of weird gymnastics/ninja attempt to survey my surroundings. It took me a solid minute to realize what woke me up, and I lowered my karate hands that were raised up into the air (I don’t even know karate, but that’s just how my middle of the night brain works I guess) and comforted my toddler.
I think that’s what threw me off, is that my toddler usually sleeps through the entire night. Also, she kept repeating “There’s a hairy man over there” and would point to a dark corner in the room. Well… THAT made the hair raise up on the back of my neck. And even though I KNEW that there wasn’t a hairy man in the room, it didn’t stop me from texting my husband who was downstairs catching up on some work to make sure that our house alarm was indeed on. And it’s just that kind of toddler-middle-of-the-night talk that can make you stay awake at night wondering “What the hell?!” Because when I finally convinced her that there was seriously not a hairy man in the room, and to please just go back to sleep, right as she was drifting off, she sleepily murmured “The horses want to poop on you, Mama” in her sweet little girl voice. Lovely.
When I finally fell back asleep after pondering that bizarre matter of fact statement, a few hours later my baby decided to wake up with a louder than normal cry. And in my weird sleepy state, I apparently shouted to my husband “Move!!! MOVE!!! It’s the horses!”, all super panicked. He wasn’t even in the way. I think maaaaybe his leg was a little bit more on my side of the bed than usual, but really I’m just taking his word for it. I mean, I have been known to wake him up if I’ve been up breastfeeding all night, because I like him to be aware that I haven’t slept a freaking wink. Ya know, because I’m a nice wife like that. He’s in a sound sleep snoring? F that. He needs to know that I’m working my ass off feeding our child with my BODY. That I would LOVE to even have the chance to snore, let alone sleep more than 90 minutes without someone creeping me the hell out about horses pooping on me and hairy men in dark corners. Ok, so I don’t do it all the time, but on the really shitty nights, you bet your ass he’s getting woken up.
Because not all the time, but sometimes, it drives me freaking bananas if we wake up after a really crappy night’s sleep and he turns to me saying “I’m soooo tired”. And I get it. I really do. I don’t OWN exhaustion or being tired. It’s not a competition. But for shit’s sake. Really? Really?! I’m sorry, I believe I am the one whipping my boob out like some kind of crazy cowgirl boob slinger the moment I hear my baby cry. I believe I am the one who is trying to fall back asleep wondering why on EARTH my toddler thinks horses want to defecate on me. I believe I am the one who reeks of spoiled milk every night because the baby either spit up all over me mid nursing session or because I forgot to put my boob away and created my own personal milk bath by rolling on top of it.
And to be fair, my husband has really helped me out SO much more at night lately. Thank God. Seriously, for the sake of my sanity and for our marriage. With my first baby, I think I kind of sheltered him from the middle of the night wake ups (unless I really felt that urge to wake him up solely to tell him that I wasn’t sleeping. Sometimes they just REALLY need to be informed of this!) But he really has helped out so much more with our son, because sometimes I just can’t comfort both kids at the same time. I’m not Super Mom. And to be perfectly honest, with our second baby I’m just more comfortable and confident that my husband can handle it. He’s a great dad. Granted, he can’t breastfeed our son (such a shame), but a few laps around our bedroom can sometimes do the trick. So here’s to teamwork, crazy middle of the night shenanigans and coffee. Copious amounts of coffee.