|
|
Monday, October 15, 2007Sympathetic Sleepiness?I'm sleep deprived and I don't make a big deal about it. It's part of being the mother of a newborn, you know? Molly's on a great schedule; she only nurses once at night and has the occasional "oops, I woke up too early" thing going, when she needs a bit of intervention to get her back to sleep before it's actually time to nurse. So, yeah, I get up at night. And by 9:00 in the evening, I can barely keep my eyes open. That can get tricky, since Molly's last nursing before I go to bed is at 10:30. Evenings have turned into a muddy, fuzzy blur. Frustrating at times, but no big deal. It'll pass as quickly as my sweet baby's tinyhood. Interestingly, Eric seems to be suffering from symptoms of sleep deprivation, too. And I'm not sure why. Sure, he hears Molly when she cries at 3:30 in the morning. But he rolls right over and goes back to sleep. I know this because he often starts snoring several minutes later. I can't kick him or pinch his nostrils shut when I'm over on the upholstered chair nursing the baby. So I have to listen to him snoring. One night a couple of weeks ago, I threw a Hardy Boys book at him. It was the only thing I could reach and I figured it wouldn't hurt him if I accidentally beaned him on the head. Fortunately, it landed safely on the bed with enough force that he stopped in mid-snore and rolled over on his side. Last night, in the midst of less-than-human-sounding snores, I hissed his name in a stage whisper, to which he actually responded, "Huh?" And when I told him that he was snoring, he dutifully rolled over and stopped. So. The man is sleeping at night. When the alarm goes off at 6:00, I get up. Okay, sometimes I allow myself one, eight-minute snooze; but mostly, I get up at 6:00. Life goes on; I have to start my day regardless of how long I happened to be awake the night before. It's not always easy, but it's not a big deal. And what does my not-nursing-a-baby-in-the-middle-of-the-night husband do? He rolls over and continues to sleep. And sleep. And sleep. Lately, he's been rolling out of bed around 7:00. An entire hour of extra sleep for the parent who has not been on night duty. It's even worse on weekends. "I hear Molly when she wakes up at night," Eric explained just yesterday. "It's affecting me." It's affecting him? Forgive me if I don't show any empathy for my dear husband. He is the love of my life, but this I'm-as-tired-as-you-are thing is not holding water. So while some husbands tend to gain weight sympathetically during their wives' pregnancies (mine did not), others, I suppose, tend to fall asleep sympathetically while their wives are dealing with middle-of-the-night feedings. Is it me, or is this weird? Maybe he needs attention. I'd love to give him some, but I'd need to be awake in order to do it. Last night around 10:00, I had dozed off once again on the sofa. When I woke up twenty minutes later, Eric told me that he'd been bumping me in the face with my Boppy and calling my name. Evidently, I was non-responsive. "You just kept going, "MMMMMMM," he said. "You wouldn't open your eyes." Do tell. Not only is he claiming sleep deprivation, but he's laughing at me when I'm not even conscious. I guess he was too tired to think of a more effective way to communicate with me. (Was bumping me in the face with my Boppy some kind of amorous move, I wonder?) I don't know. Maybe, in a way, it's better that he's sleepy. I imagine it would be beyond annoying if he were jumping around like a nut-gathering squirrel on speed, and expecting me to keep up with him. At least when I'm zoning out over coffee in the morning, he's zoning out with me. It takes the pressure off. Still, it would be nice to know that, should the intelligence and clarity of a well-rested adult be required, at least one of us would be up to the task. I'm down for the count, so it falls on Eric. And at this rate, we'd better hope that nothing requiring a great deal of thought or energy will be required of either of us. Because he's almost as sleepy as I am. And I make no excuses for him. Maybe he'll get the hint if I start complaining about my sore muscles after he's been lifting weights. You know, a kind of sympathetic muscle ache. "You've been to the gym three times this week," I'll say. "It affects me." It's worth a try. Labels: baby, family, marriage |
About MeI am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
|
5of my readers are feeling chatty:
Mine doesn't even stir!! I, swear, she can be screaming her head off in the night and he doesn't even move. Of course, I hear her if she sighs...
*momma sigh*
At least with the bottle-fed baby I can kick him out of bed every once and awhile to take a turn! ;)
I have been too tired to go to the gym three times a week, honey. Remember I am sleep deprived. :)
BTW, "I imagine it would be beyond annoying if he were jumping around like a nut-gathering squirrel on speed"
Interesting... we have about a thousand of those in the back yard right now. Love you sweetheart.
lol
All I can say is when the bottle becomes the feeding tool of choice: DADDY'S TURN!
No number of man changed diapies, or bottle feedings ever compare to mommy's contributions.
I think I had sympathy brain farts.
I can't complain at all.
Vince always gets the baby, does a diaper change while I stumble to the rocking chair, then hands the wee one off to me for the nighttime feedings.
He also usually takes the non-nursing-time wakings.
We have always joked that he's the babies' "boring buddy" because they always seem to go back to sleep much easier for Daddy!
I am immensely blessed by his nighttime help. :-)
No comment. That's all I can say without getting myself into trouble. No comment.
((((Jill)))))
Post a Comment
<< Home