Some days it just doesn't pay to even try to go to bed.
Last night was one of those loooong, never-ending nights. First of all, it is not good for me to watch episodes of "The Walking Dead" and "Dexter" before I try to sleep. Not good at all. I'm not a scaredy-cat or a weenie, but the tension in these shows makes it darn near impossible for me to shut off my brain. So, yeah, bad choice on my part. Well, OK, I wouldn't have even watched the zombies if it wasn't for the horror-lovin' man I married, so that one is his fault.
And then there was the thunderstorm. Yep, you read correctly. A thunderstorm on November 21. In Iowa. Sigh... Ever since we moved out into the country, Tess has developed a fear of storms. I don't know if it's because they're louder or brighter or windier, but she'll lay at the bottom of the steps whining. If someone doesn't respond to her, she escalates to moaning. Then to yipping. And, finally, to barking. Which is the point that I fly out of bed, cursing and grumbling down the stairs to sleep on the couch.
Normally, this would be where the story would end -- with me sleeping the rest of the night on the couch, trading a c-pap wearing hubby for snoring, farting dogs. Normally.
But not last night. Nope. At 3 a.m. my darling princess starts crying in her sleep. I gave her a moment or two to see if she would settle, but she didn't. That meant I also gave daddy a moment or two to wake up and realize what was going on, which, thanks to Mr. Ambien, he did not. So I stumbled back up the stairs to comfort her and help her not tip into the toilet when she fell back asleep going potty. Daddy and I met each other at her bedroom door, him looking confused and me looking like one of The Walking Dead.
No more thunder (or so I thought) and I go back to sleep in my bed. Again, thanks to Mr. Ambien, daddy is out in mere seconds while I try to position the pillows around the rapidly growing belly for minimum discomfort. I drift off to sleep...
Until 4:45 a.m. when a second round of storms go through and I end up stumbling BACK down the steps to quiet the dog before she wakes the rest of the house. I conk out on the couch when click! the table lamp on the timer clicks on to start the day. Only it's an hour early because I have forgotten to reset the time with the conclusion of Daylight Savings Time.
Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!