I haven't slept too badly without the Coach home. Except for that one night when 1/2 of the kids ended up in bed WITH me. Let me just say. . . we do NOT go for the whole "family bed" thing. Ugh. If that works for you, great. I'm entertained by the stories that Kelle tells about her sweet girls sleeping with them. It's not for us. Or me.
But as the nights have passed, I've started having trouble GOING to sleep. Once I'm asleep, I'm fine. But getting there hasn't been easy. . . in spite of my experiments with Benadryl, Melatonin, and Unisom. All of which work beautifully. Some of the time.
I think I'm just ready for him to be home.
Not to be one of those bloggers who gives TMI. . . but the Coach? He hums in his sleep. And sings, sometimes. And puts out his arm to drape over my waist. Or the general area where I used to have a waist.
Yes, sometimes he hogs the covers (and then has the audacity to accuse me of being a blanket hog!). Or takes over my pillow when I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night (a side effect of the 9 pregnancies, I'm afraid).
But it WAY beats sleeping alone.
However, these late nights (trying to get REALLY sleepy before I crawl in bed) have been interesting in their own way. The Coach is an "early to bed, early to rise" kind of guy. Actually, that would be an understatement of the worst kind. The man has been known to go to bed BEFORE 9:00. Which to a reformed night owl like myself? Incomprehensible.
I've learned over the years to get up early, even though I still hate it. The Coach has learned, over the years, not to TALK to me in the morning. And it's all worked out wonderfully.
I, however, have NOT learned that trying to talk to the Coach after 9:30 will inevitably end with the sounds of his snoring. How in the world does someone so
But without the early to bed mandates, I've been wasting a LOT of time. Enjoying the quiet. Catching up on Frasier episodes that I haven't watched since Little Man was a newborn (remember those 10:00 feedings that keep you up until 12?). Perusing blogs that I ran out of time to read years ago. Like Bakerella and a long way from the Theta house. Reading up about some sweet friends like Blackberry Rambles and Then there were Six. Making wish lists for online shopping. This swimsuit (what do you think?) and this running dress. Did you see that ? A RUNNING DRESS! I'm in heaven. These shoes for all of the time I spend on my feet NOT running - because they are cute. For running I need a new pair of these.
As you can see? I have no trouble wasting late night time.
I even started reading this book. Again. First time since high-school, I think. No one writes like Eugenia. No one. Every fiction author I've read since I read everything she wrote, I've compared to her. The deep South. The beautifully descriptive way she writes. Her characters. LOVE. Her books transport YOU to St. Simons Island. Who doesn't want that?
It's not that I haven't accomplished "real" things while the Coach has been gone. Hmmmm. Let me think.
The house is neat and tidy. Sort of clean. OH! I. . . um. . . I've gotten the kids to school on time every morning. Does that count?
Good thing he'll be home in a couple of days. It's about time I get my act together and get something DONE around here.
And I miss his humming.