A few weeks ago I posted about some of my hubby’s crazy sleep talking. I am pretty sure I don’t talk in my sleep. But? I can’t say that for sure because he is such a deep sleeper that even if I did, he would never hear it to tell the tale.
But last night?
Three distinct crazies took place and I was to blame for at least two of them.
As normal, Evan gave Eva her bath around 7 pm. I lotioned and PJed her, fed her and tucked her into bed around 7:30. At 10, when Ev was leaving for work (sidenote: did ya know that he works a second job that requires him to leave at ridiculous hours like 10 pm? Yeah, well, he does) I headed to bed.
It was likely that I would get a wake up call in no time at all, but her nights have become so unpredictable that I have given up on waiting up until she wakes up for the first time.
So, I dozed off to sleep.
At some point, the wakeup call came. I groggily sat up, looked at the clock and saw the numbers, “11:57” glaring back at me.
I thought to myself, “Ohmigash, Ohmigash, Ohmigash … SHE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT. SHE SLEPT THROUGH THE ENTIRE NIGHT”. If Evan had been home in bed, I likely would have woken him up to celebrate this wondrous occasion with me.
Let me remind you of the numbers I saw: 11:57. I’m not sure where my head was. Did I think we both slept ALL night and ALL morning and it was 11:57 a.m. the next day? Either that or I have super low expectations for sleeping through the night. After a few more minutes of celebrating this success, reality hit me.
Wait a minute … what time is it again?
Sadly, I realized that no, she had not slept through the night and that I had really just fallen asleep a measly two hours prior.
I stumbled to her room, picked her up to feed her and headed back to bed.
Next, somewhere between the hours of 1-2 am my husband returned from work. Clearly I was zonked because I didn’t even hear him come into the house or to bed.
However, sometime shortly after I was made aware of his presence as his voice, shouting “STOP THAT RIGHT NOW” woke me up.
I woke up to discover that I was sprawled across his body, my hand on his head, giving him the biggest noogie anyone ever did see. (See, I said I don’t think I talk in my sleep – I never said I don’t give out noogies in my sleep.)
“Oops. Sorry” I said, and rolled back over. Who knows what (or why) I was doing.
A few hours later, somewhere in the 3s, he decided to give me my payback, I guess.
As I rolled over in bed, to go from facing him to facing away from him, I felt his arm shoot up in the air and come down on my neck with some kinda force. Like, ouch. It hurt.
“Ow! What are you doing? That hurt!”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, babe. Wanna know what I was dreaming? It was just me in a single bed and the baby was beside me. When you rolled over, I thought she was going to fall off so I had to save her.”
How sweet. He was protecting our child. I sure hope if that ever really happened, he would protect her a little more softly, though.
I can still feel the spot where he hit me.
The best part of all of this – he remembers nothing this morning. So, I could have made it all up.
But I didn’t.
Or did I?