I seem to be waking up every hour to pee, readjust, or to calm down from a crazy vivid dream. Every. Single. Night. And I don’t get back to sleep right away. Nooooo.
I stay up and worry about very important things.
I wonder if Lula is cold?
I think that nasty smell in the fridge is that Greek yogurt I got on sale a few days ago. I didn’t check the expiration date…I hope Ryan doesn’t have any before he goes to work.
I should probably start making a list of things to freeze for meals for when Olive gets here. I only have a month and a half.
Lula was so difficult today. I wonder if she just doesn’t like me anymore. That makes me sad *cue tears*
What time is it? *check clock* Oh boy, Ryan gets up in an hour and a half…I definitely won’t get anymore sleep after he gets up. I am worried I am not sleeping enough this pregnancy. I wonder if I am hurting Olive somehow by not sleeping? I should really get more sleep.
I finally fall back to sleep only to be awoken by the most god-awful, claw-your-ears-out sound in the world. Ryan’s effing alarm clock. Does Ryan hear it? No.
I hear it go off…and keep going off. Then I nudge him and tell him his phone is going off. Then he has the gall to sleepily question me. “Huh?”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘HUH?’ DO YOU HEAR THAT EVIL HORN SOUND ECHOING IN YOUR EAR? TURN. IT. OFF.”
He SLOWLY turns it off. Stumbles with it. I don’t understand. I know EXACTLY what button to press on my phone to turn off my alarm. I can do it without even looking.
5 minutes later…
HONK HONK HONK HONK
“RYAN WAKE UP AND TURN OFF YOUR F***ING ALARM! WHY EVEN SET IT IF YOU HAVE NO F***ING INTENTION OF GETTING YOUR ASS UP AT THAT TIME?!?!”
“HUH? Ok Ok!” *cue more stumbling with the alarm*
This may happen one more time until I am so pissed I am hitting him and he gets up and goes to work.
Now I for sure can’t go back to bed because I am pissed. Livid.
Then I worry that I am too pissed and too livid. And not getting any sleep.
And the dreams. Oh. My. God.
They are either so violent I worry that I have some weird effed up psyche…like, I could potentially become a serial killer if I am pushed too far.
They are about some twisted sexual escapade. I could make some major dough selling my dreams to fetish porno writers. Inanimate objects…Sally Field…Barney.
Yes. I had a dream last night that Barney (Yes, The Big Purple Dinosaur) and I had…relations. What the hell is wrong with me? I will spare you all the details, partly because my parents follow my blog, and partly because I just don’t want to relive that purple nightmare ever again.
I wake up. Relieved that I was just dreaming. And then proceed to freak out at what in the world is wrong with my brain.
8 hours of uninterrupted sleep before Olive gets here is all I ask for. Is that too much to ask? Yes. Yes it is.
Why? Because I am huge and have what feels like an octopus writhing around in my belly. Because my bladder is squished down to the size of a pea. Because I get way too hot. Then way too cold. Because my crazy brain won’t shut off. Because my husband is immune to his alarm. Because Barney has the hots for me. Or maybe it’s the other way around.
So, I have decided to just give in. I am not going to fight it anymore. My 8-hour wish is just not going to happen, and I need to be OK with it. But there are consequences. Oh yes, consequences. Beware everyone (and Ryan). Lindsay’s Crazy Brain is going to get a whole lot crazier. A month and a half…hang on for the ride.