Tuesday, December 8, 2009

T-to-the-ired.

I wish I could explain to you the exhaustion. The absolutely dire lack of sleep. The immenent need to crawl back into bed and sleep until tomorrow. I. Am. Tired.

{The Backstory}

So, we're eating last night. It's about 6:30pm. Groceries are strewn haphazardly across the kitchen table and sink, and dinner was some kind of microwavable pasta that I got on sale for a buck. Becks is shoveling yogurt into his mouth with one hand while holding a perfectly capable spoon with the other. I guess it's only for show, since his hands are his utensil of choice. B and I are conversing about the day's events and suddenly there was a flicker. The lights.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

No electric. Streetwide. Citywide.

I made a couple of phone calls to the energy company, reported our outage and prayed that this wasn't a repeat of September 2008 when we lost power for the entire work week. The automated machine said that we'd receive a phone call when power was restored. The difference between having a major power outage in September versus December is obviously temperature. Our poorly insulated 1950s cape cod was losing heat faster than you can say shiver me timbers, and we could barely hear each other over all the teeth chattering.

An hour later we were still powerless, so we gathered all the candle power we could and started packing our things to stay at my parents' place where heat and cable TV were abundant. Pending that promised call from the energy co., we'd planned to stay there all night.

So we end up sleeping over and all is peaceful and wonderful until Becks gets up wailing at 3am. We pull him into bed between us and head back into dreamland. Except not. Because Beckham was wide awake, and performed TWO AND A HALF HOURS worth of acrobatics between me and B for the duration of the night.

He repeatedly tossed and turned, headbutting me all the while in a futile attempt at getting comfortable. He smothered me with G (his lovie), and laid his head on my face. Then he would alternate between my stomach and face. Then he pivoted around so that his feet were by my head or B's stomach and he would start to kick. When I went to the bathroom at 4am, he insisted on accompanying me and asked for a drink and to brush his teeth. This went on for TWO AND A HALF HOURS. If you didn't catch that earlier, I thought I'd bold and underline it again. Because that's a long darn time. All in all, there was a whole lotta non-sleep going on.

At 5:30am, I gave up. And now I'm basically a zombie.

Oh, but lest my neighbor inform me - the power returned at 9pm last night.

Never got that phone call. Arrrrrrrgh.

8 comments:

  1. Oh no Abby. Dont you just love living in an old home. It never ends huh?

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  2. LMAO!!!!! You pooooor thing! I bet the power came on the second your cape cod left the view of your rearview mirror as you drove to your parents!!!!! I hope you get some great catch up sleep!

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  3. Oh, girl. That is torturous. You've had a rough run of it lately. Good luck has got to be coming your way.

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  4. I hear ya on sleeping with a 1-2 year old! We've tried to get another hour out of Connor on weekends when he's woken us up early by placing him between us in bed .... what a JOKE! Do toddlers even sleep? After getting kicked in the face a couple times and finding an unknown sticky liquid substance in my hair, it was easier for us all to just get up!! Get some good rest tonight, sister!

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  5. Wishing you lots of sleep in a warm and cozy home. :)

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  6. Ohh, you poor thing! You must be exhausted. And it takes a few days to get over that. Every time we bring our little one into bed with us she "preforms acrobatics" too. Not so great for the sleeping.

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  7. I almost fell off the oouch reading htis post b/c we deal with the same thing when Walker sleeps between us these days. In fact, Lee complains that he kicks his face all night long. I really do think we need to get our wild boys together:).

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Babble back y'all