Friday, April 4, 2008

Sleep, boy I miss it.

It's like having a newborn again... this waking up every hour or so because Andrew is screaming like he's in a Friday the 13th remake...now he's taken to walking around the house at 3 a.m. We're going to have to put in trip wires that will set off alarms so he doesn't wander out of the house. Andrew has only slept through the night once in the last five weeks.

Last night Jim didn't get home until 2 a.m. - I had gone to bed at 10:30 - Andrew was screaming MOMMY! at 12:15 or so. Then 20 minutes later when I get to sleep again - he's screaming out NO! NO!....then I get to sleep again and I hear Jim come in and warm up his dinner etc. Jim comes to bed - I'm in a coma - although I'm awake - I can't even muster the energy to say, "hello, glad you are still alive". 15-20 minutes later - Andrew is screaming again. I go in to lay next to him because at this point even though I'm a brain wave away from being Karen Ann Quinlan - I know enough that my poor husband needs to get some sleep. I go lay next to him on the slab of death - his mattress (brand new - top of the line firm) -- to me is AWFUL. I'm spread up against the wall like a coat of paint while Andrew is spread all over the bed as comfortable as can be. After two hours of that discomfort - I crawl away begging for Kevorkian to come by and mercy kill me.

An hour later - Andrew is up for the morning - cranky and insisting that he have a cupcake for breakfast and he doesn't want to go to school.

No wonder people drink. Heavily.
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