Tag Archives: sleep

“I Could Have Slept All Night”

When I was in high school, a friend of mine burst out in a parody version of the “I Could Have Danced All Night” number from My Fair Lady that made me giggle…and then sigh…because it is so true.

” I could have slept all night, I could have slept all night,

And still have begged for more.”

I went through a phase during my teenaged years where I slept as much as I could every chance I got.  Looking back, I’m really glad that I did that.  While it didn’t make for very interesting diary entries (“Took a nap today and it was awesome!”), it was arguably the last time that I’ll be able to do that for the next thirty years or so.  Seriously, I would give much to be able to have the two naps a day that my baby and my toddler fight so vociferously.  I’ve come to the determination that naps are totally wasted on the young.  I’ll make a deal with you, guys;  you do the laundry for me, and I’ll take the naps for you.  Deal?  I didn’t think so.

Can we digress for a moment and talk about diary entries?  I know it’s fairly off-topic, but even as uninteresting as my sleepy entries will be to people decades and centuries from now, I have to believe that they will still be more interesting than the entries in George Washington’s diaries.  I studied those suckers in high school and it still blows my mind that a guy that awesome had such mind-numbingly boring things to saw.  Seriously.  All four volumes were entirely comprised of how many miles he rode on his horse or what he had for dinner that day.  Where the heck were the entries on crossing the Delaware, or the awful winter at Valley Forge, or meeting Martha, or when he got his new dentures?  I’m just saying.  Mix it up a little, George!  P.S.  I’m still a huge fan.  Huge.

Anyway.  The last couple of days, I’ve been so tired that it physically hurts.  I sat down today to grade a couple of math lessons and woke up an hour later.  I’m going to chalk that up to the epic weekend and being pregnant.  (Energy, you should be back by now.  I’m giving you notice.  The books say you should be back, so where the heck are you?!!)  I’ve been going to bed at the time that an average adult might for the last few nights, and I’m telling you, it ain’t worth getting to stay up late with the grown-ups.

That song from My Fair Lady is stuck in my head.  And now it’s in yours, too.  You’re welcome…and good night.

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The Jack of the Baskervilles

My family has a beagle named Jack.  He is a sweet boy with some minor oddities…you know, like eating the eyes off of every stuffed animal who is unfortunate enough to cross his path and being completely unable to walk down a staircase without taking out anyone who happens to be on said staircase at the same time.  A while back I watched a documentary on Animal Planet about the smartest dog breeds on the, well, planet.  I was utterly floored when beagles came out in the top spot.  I never would have known that from the example I have living in my house.  In fact, you could say that he’s a few tacos short of a fiesta platter.  All that being said, there is no animal alive who is more patient or loving with his family.  Baby loves him and shows it as gently as any tiny boy was ever able to do, but “Dog-Dog” couldn’t be happier than when he’s being loved by his miniature Human.

Jack, the beagle

Meet Jack, our family’s beagle. Isn’t he cute?

This leads me to relate a rather unfortunate incident that occurred just last night.  Oldest and Baby were in bed, asleep.  Around 2200 (10 PM for you non-military readers) in my sleep-induced haze, I heard Baby crying through the monitor.  (Side note…Baby’s been doing a lot of that the last couple of days because he’s been afflicted with a random fever.  Poor sweetie.)  I changed his diaper, which he was not happy about anyway, and then tried to calm him back down.  That’s when I heard The Sound.

I neglected to mention earlier that Jack has another personality quirk.  He doesn’t do anything quietly.  About three years ago, he finally found his beagle voice and our lives have never been the same.  No beagle ever howled with the enthusiasm that this dog does.  It’s blood-curdling when one is not expecting it…which one never is.  One being me.  He also snores like the offspring of a freight train and a dragon.  Our house is a senior citizen, which means that sounds travel quite well through its floors and ceilings.

What usually happens in our house after the kiddies are asleep is that Husband and I retire upstairs to our office/bedroom.  We bring the dogs up with us to get some non-miniature Human affection before we all fall asleep.  As I rocked Baby downstairs in his room last night, I heard a sound that filled my baby’s heart with fright at each occurrence.  I couldn’t figure out at first if it was a truck revving its engine outside or if something horribly wrong was happening to our furnace.  Then, The Sound scratched itself.  I could hear its foot thumping on the floor.  The Sound was Jack…sleeping.  And my baby screamed with terror.

Happily, this story ended well for everybody but the dogs.  Baby and I watched some Baby Galileo, which restored the smiles and giggles.  He fell back asleep.  I fell back asleep.  However, both dogs were sent to bed in the kitchen early, where Jack’s snores couldn’t terrify anyone but the cats.

Jack of the Baskervilles.  I'm sure this is the image Baby had in his head during The Sound.

Meet the Jack of the Baskervilles. I’m sure this is the image Baby had in his head during The Sound.

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Obligatory

It is nearly time for bed, and instead of winding down on the couch with a warm dog at my feet (and a Chopped marathon on Food Network), I’m sitting here staring at the wall and am trying to write a post.  Why?  Because I vowed that I would write one every day regardless of whether I feel like it or not…because this whole blog evolution is about developing a writing habit.  I’ve definitely been leaning towards the “not” side today because of the sleep I didn’t get last night.  (My poor baby was experiencing major teething discomfort or had a tummy ache or was too tired to sleep…quite possibly all three.)  I have been searching my soul for a topic to write about, and came up with absolutely nothing except a strange combination of static, oatmeal and zombies, which just sounded like a disaster in the making.  If that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve had “The Safety Dance” stuck in my head all day.  I really can’t tell you why.  It’s just there.  And now it’s stuck in your head, too.  I’m opening up and sharing my inner soundtrack with you because my mommy always told me that sharing is “important.”  See?  We’re bonding over baby-induced insomnia and Canadian ’90’s music.

Now that I’ve started this post, I realize I could have written about the awesome quiche I made for dinner (homemade hash brown crust with ham, spinach and mushrooms à la Paula Deen, but without the butter) or I could have written about why I pretty much don’t like cats as I  briefly touched upon in yesterday’s post.  I also could have told you about that time I fell off of the stage at my piano recital.  However, I seem to have completed a mini post, which meets my self-imposed quota for the day and is in itself a small triumph.

À toute à l’heure.

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