Saturday, February 28, 2009


I do vaguely remember a time when nights were just a deep hole in time. I am one of those people who sleeps easily and deeply, without remembering many dreams. There was a time when I was sort of infamous for falling asleep on floors or other surfaces if a party went on a little too long, and when I was a little girl, I slept through a tree falling on the roof above my head and sliding its way down the window and wall just inches from my pillow.

But that's a long time ago. Now, night is an endless series of up and down, crying and shifting beds, needing water or cough drops, or wanting to be taken out of jammies that are too hot and sweaty. It's been worse lately, since Kate (or "Patient Zero" as I like to call her) got sick about a month ago (you may recall from my last post!) and then her flu made the rounds of everyone, ultimately landing with a thud on me. I can usually weather an illness pretty well, but this one knocked me out. I came home from work last Thursday evening and went straight to bed, finally got up Sunday morning, dragged myself to work on Monday (mistake), back to bed for two days, then to work on Thursday (another mistake), then back to bed yesterday.

Anyway, maybe it was my extended illness and inability to get up at 3 and give Truman whatever it is that he feels he needs at 3 each and every night, but he seems to have stopped waking up (knock on wood). Of course, that doesn't mean I necessarily get to sleep. First of all, I have a cruel inner clock that wakes me up at 3 now no matter what (even if I'm too sick to get out of bed) there's the fact that we have chosen to live with 4 nocturnal beasts (the cats, not the children--there are only 3 of those).

Last night, while I was waiting for my internal alarm to turn off, there was a battle royale raging. One of the cats was clearly murdering some vermin and it was giving him a good chase through all the rooms of the second floor (where our bedroom is). I assumed it was probably a cricket, but started to worry that maybe it was a mouse or worse. That was when the cat in question brought its prize onto the bed! Well, I had to get up and see because there was a night when I was a girl when my cat cornered a bat under my bed and I really didn't want to repeat that experience. I turned the light on to find the worthy foe--a Polly Pocket doll.

Am doomed to never sleep a whole night again?