I am a Morning Person. I do my best work in the morning. I wake up ready to go. I exercise at 5:00am. But at night? I'm PISSED if I'm still wearing regular clothes and a bra (the horror!) at 7pm. I like to be in bed by 10pm at the latest.
On the other hand, Hubby is a Night Owl. He hits the snooze button 400 times every morning. He grunts and mutters
As I may have mentioned a time or three, Hubby is a snorer. As in, if there were an Olympic competition for snoring, he could quite possibly be a gold medalist.
[Full disclosure: He says *I* snore as well. But hahahahaha, he doesn't have a blog to
So my going to bed before him is also Survival-101. If I can get to sleep before he comes in the room, his snoring is not as likely to keep me up. All bets are off in the middle of the night though. If I get woken up by his snoring? He usually gets a swift kick and a terse whisper-yell (you've all done the whisper-yell before, right?) to "Roll over!"
Weekends are a little different. I can usually rally and stay up later, usually through Socialization and Alcohol, combined.
Which means that sometimes, we end up going to bed at the same time.
But there are nights when each of us (more me than him, usually) requires a good night's sleep that doesn't involve The Snoring.
I, therefore, need another place to rest my head.
Sometimes it's the living room couch. But ugh, holy back-ache in the morning.
Middle's double bed is actually the most comfortable bed in the house. But he tends to sleep smack-dab in the middle, like a corpse, but completely covered with Pillow Pets and stuffed animals:
Which leaves me with the only other option.
The top bunk:
But once settled, with my own pillow, Kindle and iphone, damn, it's a good night's sleep, I daresay.
Mornings are tough. Here's what happens:
"Wow, that was a great sleep, despite the fact that I maybe think I heard Hubby snoring through TWO SETS OF CLOSED DOORS OMG. I have to pee."
(Peer down over side to see if Baby is still asleep, which indeed he is. Dammit.)
"Hmmm, maybe I can sneak down without too much movement. But if I get down, I'm not going to want to climb back up. And it's only 6am. On a Saturday. Not happening. I'll distract myself by playing Candy Crush (on both the Kindle and iphone so 10 games in a row yeeeyaw!)"
(30 minutes passes with no movement from bottom bunk.)
(Clenching legs together time.)
"Maybe if I bounce around a little up here, I'll rouse him? I so don't wanna climb down those slats. It's scary and it hurts."
"If only I were a pole vaulter! All I'd need is a big stick and I could JUMP down. Heh."
"Is it light outside? I wonder if today will be sunny? Why can't I hear any birds from here? Do birds sleep?"
"He's moving! And 7am is a totally appropriate wake-up time for a Saturday, I guess. Maybe we can just send him to bed a little early tonight to make up for it?"
Me: "Hey buddy! You up?"
Baby: "Mom! You scared me!"
Me: "Sorry for that. Listen, I gotta pee. So you need to move before I jump down on your head."
And with that, I hoist my legs over the wooden side bar and jump down onto the bottom bunk.
And race into the bathroom.
Until the next time.