It’s Monday again?

Weekends are just flying by. All I want to do is sleep. Sleep like I did before children. Wasn’t that bliss? When you could sleep in until 10am; no questions asked. No one begging you to get up, no one bringing your glasses and a pair of pants, pulling at your hand saying, “Up! Up!”. It really is cute, but not when I hate mornings as it is. I mean really, Dora, that bitch, should be able to occupy him for just a half hour longer; her or that stupid monkey friend.

[Did I ever tell you that we have a Boots doll that sings his delightful Boots song every time you push on his head? Or have I mentioned that Carter is infatuated with this toy and insists on dropping him on his head repeatedly to hear the song? How about the fact that I can - and d0 - sing all the words to that insanely captivating song repeatedly throughout the day? Even at work. That and Elmo, those cursedly adorable little bastards have sucked us all in. It's a conspiracy I tell you. Damn you!]

My thoughts were confirmed last night. Carter has/had Fifth disease. The rash broke out last night, just in time for him to be able to attend daycare this morning. Thankfully it’s not an itchy rash, could you imagine? Poor bugger trying to scratch his back all day. Thank gawd for daycare; at least I don’t have to deal with it anymore; sick children suck. (See. Excellent parenting skills once again. You’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re taking that Mother of the Year award from me).

So, here I am back at it. Monday morning. At my desk, coffee in hand (well, beside me now that I am typing) and wishing for Friday all over again.

I think I was tagged in a eight random things meme by Sara. That sneaky bitch is always throwing these things my way. God love that woman! (Seriously though, I think she’s just in it for the link backs to her site, she’s a whore like that. *wink*) Oh, and of course, the delightful News Bitch tagged me with this one as well. Didn’t mean to leave you out!

So here ya go… I think I’ve done it before… (If you can find it in my archives somewhere, I’ll give you an honourable mention with a link to your site; so you whores get at it and find me that entry.. if there even is one *giggle*)

1. I fear thunderstorms. This is part of my 100 Things as well, but I really do. It’s getting better now that I’m older, but even until I was 18 I would turn on my walkman (remember those? they played tapes - you know, cassette tapes - and had a radio tuner. Totally retro.) … to drown out the sound of the thunder and I would put my had under the blankets to block out the lightening.

2. I love Madonna. Mostly old school shit, but I still love her. I think I know all the songs to the Like a Prayer and True Blue albums (which I have on cassette).

3. I have never lived one day of my life alone. Never. After leaving home I had roommates and then Mike and I moved in together straight out of school. The longest I have been alone was 3 months while Mike was working across country.

4. I never used to drink coffee. Only about 6 or 7 years ago I started to drink it regularly, and just got my very first coffee maker for Christmas 2 years ago, which I only started using because I was on Maternity Leave and couldn’t get out of the house early enough to get coffee. My first couple pots were so fuckin’ sick until I got the hang of measurements and water quantities. You’d never be offered coffee if you came over during that time.

5. I hate to cook. Mike does all the cooking. If he works late or isn’t coming home, Carter and I have KD and hot dogs, sandwiches or soup. I can make a mean spaghetti sauce too though. *If* I had to make a meal, I can. I just don’t enjoy it, so I avoid it.

6. I can’t sleep unless my bed is made prior to going to bed. I hate - LOATHE - climbing into a bed with messed up sheets and blankets. It takes me forever to fall asleep. Mike is really bad for this; if he goes to bed before me, the blankets are EVERYWHERE and I find it nearly impossible to fall asleep.

7. I snore. REALLY loud. Especially after a night of drinking. I could wake the entire house.

8. I am an obsessive blogger. I check my site too often, check email even more and always open Google Reader first thing when I get on the computer. It’s begun to consume me… almost like the message boards had. *shudder*

There you have it. Now if you’re reading this - you’re tagged. If you do it, link back and let me know that you have, I wanna read about how weird you are! I’ll know if you were here - refer to Number 8

Exhaustion has sent in. I think I’ve actually overextended myself to the point where my body has decided to defy my requests to function.

Yesterday at work I was overcome with dizziness and couldn’t stop yawning; I pushed through the entire day only to crash on the floor at 8pm after bingeing on enough Swiss Chalet to actually be overwhelmed with the desire to purge everything (it’s a run-on and I like it that way). Yes, I crashed on the floor since Mike had staked his claim to the couch as he does every (Friday) night.
I was able to overlook his selfishness, as he let me sleep until 9:30 this morning! Glorious 9:30. I was in heaven. I haven’t slept for 13.5 consecutive hours in nearly 3 years. What an absolute blessing that was; and I’m ready to head back to bed for a nap right now.

I utterly love sleep. I crave it all the time. I think about it incessantly. Disturbing me from my peaceful slumber is considered worthy of death by incessant nagging and bitching for the remainder of the day. Ask my husband. I am not someone that can force out of bed, against my will, then function in a pleasant and peaceful manner.

And for that reason, I don’t know why I had a child; I knew that once it arrived I would be forced to forgo sleep as well as be awaken forcefully by a little being who would inevitably wake with the rising of the sun.
Who I was kidding when I actually thought that Carter would play peacefully in his crib until I was ready to get up and face the day? Once he’s awake, it’s for good. If I attempt to catch a few more minutes of sleep, it’s disturbed by the crib banging against the wall as he jumps up and down screaming “Maaaaaaa!“.

Yesterday morning, as I fought off utter exhaustion, I was awaken in regular fashion. Shrills and screams. I dragged my ass into his room, with bottle in hand. While rubbing sleep from my half open eyes I cursed him for being an early riser, like his father. I walked into the room to see him holding the baby monitor to his mouth and screaming “Maaaaaaaa!” (We haven’t used that thing as a monitor in ages; it’s a globe that also lights up so we use it for a night light).

He smiled as he diverted his gaze from the glowing globe, which had fallen to the ground, and said, “Hi Ma-ma!” with arms outstretched.

He doesn’t get his morning charm from me, that’s for sure; but it’s enough to transform me from an utterly hateful bitch into just a regular catty bitch.

To the person searching Google for “sam moody sleep” … are you looking for me? You think I’m moody!? What the hell did I do to make you think that I was moody!? Yes, I need sleep, but I don’t think that I am moody because of lack of sleep! *grin*

Hope you found what you were looking for.

Cheers!

It’s Saturday night, 8:46pm and I am dreaming of bed. I love sleep. I am more of a night person then a morning person. I hate mornings. I hate them with a passion. I like being up as the sun is rising… then going to bed.. not getting up as the sun is rising.

As of the week I returned back to work I have been going to bed about 9pm on average. I get up at 5am every (week)day; really sucks, I know; I don’t sleep well when I go to bed at 9pm. I toss and turn for quite a while which makes Mike have dreadful thoughts of murder and torture. Going to bed later, I’m a zombie in the morning. I just can’t win. And the worst part? If my feet are cold I CANNOT fall asleep until they’ve warmed.

I have never ever liked wearing socks, and wearing them to bed? The thought of it just made me cringe; like pulling a wookie from the drain. One night I was dead-beat tired and went to bed with my clothes on (as opposed to changing to pajamas you perverts) and had socks on. I think I had one of the best nights sleep I’ve had in years. I attribute it to the socks. Thank you socks.
So I have been trying a little experiment. Like my boss always says “It’s not rocket science”, but it’s an investigation per say. I have been picking random nights to sleep with socks on. Once I get over the initial cringe of having socks on, I sleep better. Really, I do. But, I also sleep so much better that I sleep in and am late those days. Weird? I do believe so. Still the socks? I dunno.

I feel like I may wear socks tonight.