I was a night owl as a child and an insomniac as an adult. I stayed awake replaying the events of the day—especially everything I did wrong. Therapy and getting an insane amount of exercise cured me in my twenties. After a miserable pregnancy (with equally miserable sleep), I woke up for breastfeeding several times a night. Once Baby D dropped nighttime nursing, I woke up because I’d gotten used to waking up. The slightest noises woke me up because Something Might Be Wrong with Baby D.
Then I woke up because something WAS wrong with Baby D, either an illness or a scream of “Want dinner!” at midnight.
My husband Andy never woke up unless I punched him in the arm, which, as I slept less and he snored more, made me want to punch him even harder.
Chronic sleep-deprivation is torture and it makes you psychotic.
In a perfect world, we’d have had a house with an extra bedroom where I could sleep. Our world is not perfect and housing in Los Angeles is expensive. I could sleep with the snoring husband in the super expensive comfy bed or the snoring dogs on the not-so comfy couch.
I mostly slept in the bed, using earplugs and Benadryl. My sleep improved. It might have improved more if Andy ever heard Baby D crying before I did, but I always woke up first–even with earplugs. Whatever super-critical psychological quirk made me notice dirt, crooked pictures, or anything out of place also woke me up if there was any unusual noise at night.
I swapped Benadryl for all kinds of different sleep meds, some of which I learned were also anti-psychotics, (possibly why Andy is still alive). Other medications made me appear drunk (Andy is a huge fan of Ambien for just that reason).
Sleep drugs helped, except on the nights when a cat hairballed, Woofie puked up purloined cabbage, or some idiots decided to use our lawn as a toilet.
One night, though, I woke up to…nothing. Baby D was asleep. The pets and husband were snoring softly. Yet something had gotten through earplugs, Ambien, and NyQuil: a faint whiff of smoke. I prowled the house, opening windows and trying to see if someone was smoking outside on a late walk. The street, sidewalk, and backyard were empty. Yet the smell of smoke remained.
Because I will always err on the side of caution (or maybe because I was pissed he was asleep while I was awake AGAIN), I finally shook Andy.
“Thanks for not punching me,” he muttered groggily. “What’s up?”
“I smell smoke, but the house isn’t on fire and there’s no one around smoking—”
“Oh, shit!” Andy was out of bed and out the backdoor before I finished talking. He dragged the garden hose to the dog run on the far side of our detached garage. I trailed after him, utterly confused – until I saw that our trashcan was spewing smoke.
Andy flipped back the lid and turned on the hose. In seconds, the small fire was out. Aside from the melted rubbish container, there was no damage.
After heaping praise on my quick-thinking firefighter, I asked, “How on earth did you immediately know what was on fire?”
“Well, um, you know, if it wasn’t the house or garage, then that was a logical place, and um…also I put the coals from smoking that pork butt in the trash tonight,” Andy finally admitted. “They must not have been completely extinguished.”
“Ohhhh. All is explained,” I answered. “Except—why am I up instead of the dogs?! I took Ambien AND NyQuil. They’re supposed to have a great sense of smell and they haven’t even left their dog beds! Slackers!”
“You know that Fey goes off-duty at night.”
“But we could have burned up!”
“No, honey. We will never burn up. No one will ever break in undetected. When Baby D is a teenager, he will never be able to sneak out at night. But not because of the dogs. Because you will always wake up.”
“Is that why everyone else in this house sleeps so soundly at night? Because I’m on guard?!”
Andy patted my shoulder. “That’s why I married you.”
It was a near thing, but I did not punch him in the arm.
You guard while they snooze. His praise would be sweet if you weren’t so tired, I suppose. Glad the house and the people within it are ok.
It is comforting to be an early warning system for my loved ones, but I know the real reason he married me is because I don’t drink and he will always have a designated driver.
Kudos to you for always being on guard. I relate to your nighttime nagging worries and midnight prowling for trouble. What would they do without us?
They would apparently burn up! Or be eaten by bears! 🙂
SAME!! For us it was the mother of all snow storms a few years back that came within two inches of covering the exhaust chimneys for the furnaces. So I was the one out there at 7:00am in a freakin blizzard clearing snow while spouse and two sons snoozed away. I mean, maybe we wouldn’t all have suffocated in our sleep but…
LOL, I feel you. Although out here it’s usually me sweeping up glass debris in the kitchen after an earthquake.
Does everyone in your house know how lucky they are?!
I’ve got the same nose and sense of intuition. Last night I heard a cat growl inside the house. My cats never growl so I knew something was up. Within minutes I saw they had a mouse the three of them were fighting over. While they argued, I caught the mouse and put him in our neighbor’s yard. My husband said, “how did you know?” I gave him a big eyeroll.
At least your husband woke up? Without you punching him?
I cannot understand how they keep sleeping!
I feel for you. I am also such a light sleeper and don’t know how I would cope with motherhood.
I think I’m probably a pretty good (or bad) example of just how much lighter a mother’s sleep becomes. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
It’s always a little awkward when couples don’t have the same sleep habits. I know this, because Tara is an insomniac while I can sleep like the dead (and sometimes she punches me for that). I’m glad the charcoal briquet crisis was averted!
Apparently the hot coal issue is quite common, as I learned the next day when I had to call the city to get our rubbish bin replaced!
Once, again, my sympathies lie with Tara and her punching arm. 🙂
I’m even more thankful for that gas grill we have now!
LOL. We used to have a gas grill. Used to. Fire is not our friend.
I’m sure your husband appreciates you. My husband was a light sleeper and it was great, especially when I was nursing. He heard the baby cry, changed her diapers, and brought her to me in bed. I’ve always been a sound sleeper, and I still am. Since my husband died, though, I do wake up more easily.
Your husband was a treasure, indeed.
I think we do sleep better knowing someone is on guard. That’s why I have dogs. But aside from possum warnings, they’re kind of sucking at night!
Great nose, you could even replace the dogs, haha. Mother’s sleep is indeed a thing. I’m still waking up randomly for no reason, while my husband is snoring on my ear. Then I kick and push him until he stops…
…and then you’re even more awake and too angry to get back to sleep! (Or maybe that’s just me.)
That has definitely happened sometimes, hahaha!
I hope you get a good night’s sleep at some point Autumn… Lack of sleep isn’t good for the immune system and health. That said, you have weathered so much so I am sure you’ll be fine either way 😀
Sleep is imperative…but often so elusive. Thanks, Mabel.