Sleep? What is that?

Pregnant or not, that is how it is with me every single night.

It all started, or rather, it (I mean a good night’s sleep) all ended in 2009, when I walked down the aisle and then obtained a bedfellow. I never knew a human could be capable of emitting such weird, annoying sounds while unconscious. Had I known about the crazy sound effects in the middle of the night, I might blank blank the blank blank blank. Oh, blank the effin’  blank blank! (Readers may feel free to fill in the blanks. Some possible words for the blanks could be “strychnine” or “arsenic”, just how the ladies like to do it, especially in Agatha Christie’s books. Evil laugh).

Then I got pregnant and gave birth to the Little Creature #1. Sleep became almost impossible but after a year or so, when the LC#1 finally decided to sleep for longer hours, I was given some break. Yehey to 4 – 6 hours of straight sleep at night.

Then I got pregnant again. With all the snoring from the husband and with all the rolling around the bed of the Little Creature #1 and with all the rolling inside my tummy of the the Little Creature #2 and with all the soreness and pains that pregnancy brings, how can one expect to get some rest? And, man, those annoying cocks in the neighborhood? (By cocks I really do mean the feathery things with beady eyes and nothing else). They start to cock-a-doodle-doo at around one in the morning and on and on they cock-a-doodle-doo until about 5am.

I would usually ask hubby during the night if he could do me a favor and slit their throats or something but he would simply ignore me and go back to sleep.

Also, maybe he could go see a doctor so that something could be done with the  “seventy six trombones and a hundred and ten cornets”  — the Music Man, one of the most entertaining musicals I’ve watched, by the way — he seemed to have swallowed but he’s in denial even after I made him listen to the recordings of the discordant sounds.

Ear plugs are out of the question. Depriving myself of the sense of hearing and putting myself in the hands of Rip Van Winkle in the middle of the night just does not seem safe. What if there is an emergency?

So, there you go, goodbye again, good sleep.