The alarm clock situation

We have an alarm clock situation. And by situation, I mean a big PITA for me. See, The Yankee is a heavy sleeper. I'm not talking about your usual my-husband-passes-out-on-the-couch-and-snores-loudly heavy sleeper. We are talking about a serious, could-set-a-Nancy-Grace-next-to-him, borderline narcoleptic. (For reference, check out The One About Sleep and Livin The Dream. Yes, I write about sleep a lot. Get over it.) The Yankee could sleep through the entirety of Lollapalooza from the front row. When he is out, he is effing OUT and half the time he doesn't even realize he has fallen asleep. He has passed the eff out mid-conversation and the argued that he was definitely NOT asleep when I prodded him awake. Yep, that's The Yankee.

Here is the big issue, besides the fact that his comatose state gives him a carte blanche excuse to ignore all nighttime parenting duties: his job requires him to get up earlier than I do. I know, it sounds great, doesn't it? The Yankee gets up, shuts off his alarm and meanders to the bathroom while I get to enjoy the entire warm, comfy bed to myself for another hour or so, right? Yea, only in my dreamland, except in my dreams Mark Whalberg plays my husband. Mmm, Marky Mark....wait, what were we talking about? Oh yea, The Yankee and his fawking dream killer alarm clock. The man sets his alarm for roughly an hour before he actually has to be out of bed. This gives him ample opportunity to piss off his sleep-deprived wife, while he snoozes blissfully. I get to spend the hour scurrying back & forth like a damn hermit crab, trying to simultaneously rouse him, silence the alarm clock & keep from waking whichever child decided to occupy our bed in the wee hours of the morning. Lucky me!

So, I lose a solid hour of slumber just trying to get his behind awake, only to have one or both of the kids wake up just as he lumbers into the bathroom with the grace of a inebriated bear. And you know what is the worst part, there is no snooze button on my kids. Trust me, I've looked. HARD. Unless it was that raisin looking thing that fell off when they were newborns (I knew I should have saved that thing!), I've got two defective alarm clocks and they will not stop with the incessant "Moooooooom"-ing until I drag my exhausted butt out of bed to entertain, feed or otherwise placate them. Want to hear an even crueler joke? I can't stomach coffee. Yea, it's BAD.

So could someone puh-lease invent a alarm clock that will play whack-a-mole (silently, of course) with The Yankee's head until he gets up? OR a snooze button for my kids that does not resemble a muzzle? (I'd go with the muzzle idea, but those DFACs people are getting a bit annoyed with my "jokes", ya know?) I'm seriously begging. I can pay you a small fortune in sarcasm, crushed up goldfish crackers & dust bunnies and seriously, who doesn't want that?

The one about sleep.

I've mentioned that I miss sleep. Not just any sleep, that deep, restful, naked sleep of my pre-child days when I could sleep past 8:30am and wake up, blissfully, on my own. I made you weep just thinking about it, didn't I? (Note: If you are one of those on-par-with-lottery-winners LuckyMoms whose children have slept through the night since they were two weeks old and never climb into your bed to harass your last thread of sanity at 3am, do me a favor & just keep that sh*t to yourself.)


Like I was saying, most every mom I have ever met would do just about anything, legal or otherwise, to have a that sort of sleep again. I, personally, don't think it is possible, even with child-less vacations and the butterfly-wing pills I keep seeing commercials for. The best sleep I get is on my annual Mommy's Drunk Night Out and as the name implies, that alcohol & exhaustion fueled sleep is clearly negated by the raging death wish hangover I am greeted with five minutes before the hotel's checkout time. See, now I'm rambling. This is what three years of parenting has done to me people. Bad things.


Now that we have firmly established what a sleep-deprived wreck I am (as if there was any doubt), let's discuss what three years of parenting has not done. The answer is, affected my husband's sleep schedule one frackin bit. Sure, the Yankee claims to be tired, but I hear his snores taunt me as I tend to squirmy children at 3am. I know better. The Yankee sleeps like he has overdosed on Nyquil every frick night. If sleeping becomes an Olympic level event, he'll be set, but until then this is what I deal with...


(Background Info: When Monkey came home as a newborn he was a tiny, hungry little dude, but my body hadn't yet gotten the memo that it was now an all hours diner, so a bit of work had to be done to get the *ahem* restaurant up & flowing. The protocol that I was told I MUST follow, was nurse him for 15-20 min, then pump, rinse & repeat two hours from when we began nursing. Sounds like a party, right?)


So, night one at home, Monkey has been topped off and the we all settle in to bed at 10pm. 11:30 comes & GrandMom (my Mom, not MIL, clearly) nudges me awake to feed Monkey. 25 minutes later I hand him off to GrandMom to burp and settle, while I groggily torture myself pump. We all head back to bed at around 12:15am. Repeat 4 times. 7:20am rolls around and I'm up readying myself for the next order. The Yankee wakes up, looks over at the sleeping Monkey and utters the dumbest statement I have ever heard: "(Gasp) Oh my gawd!! He slept through the night!!" Insert the most evil mom look ever conjured up and me hissing "No, asshole, YOU DID!"


The Yankee thought our newborn son had slept from 10pm until 7:20am without waking, at three days old. He had the foolish luxury because he slept through every frickin feeding! Don't you just feel bad for poor, sleep-deprived Yankee? Fast forward 10 months to Monkey still not sleeping through the night. Surely, the Yankee has been getting up occasionally to give Monkey a bottle of the good stuff stored in the freezer, right? Nope. Never. Not even once.


The Yankee does not even understand the meaning of exhausted and that is why I give him the stink eye each and every time he whines "I'm tired." Now, I'm off to bed. The over/under is 20 minutes before the first "Mommy?". Place your bets, people. 

Livin the dream

By now you've got to be thinking, "Wow! This NuttyMommy is amazingly awesome & oh-so-witty! I bet her life is really glamorous too!" Took the words right out of your mouth, didn't I? *smug smile* Yea, I thought so. So, in an effort to brighten your non-glamorous world, I'll give you a short peek into mine. Are you ready for this? Probably not, but here we gooooooooooooo!

3:12am Monkey comes into my bed. Just because. Monkey takes up 1/3 of the bed, the Yankee takes up another 1/2 of the bed, leaving NuttyMommy with 1/6 of the bed to occupy.

3:17am I realizes that I will not be able to sleep in such a tight space. Guess what NuttyMommy does when she is cranky & unable to sleep? Fractions? Haha, absolutely not! I poke the Yankee until he moves over.

3:24am The Yankee moves over, giving me another 1 inch of sleeping room between the Yankee and the Monkey. Success!

3:25am I realize I am laying between two space heaters and I am BURNING up.

3:26am Kick off covers. Monkey cries for "horsepower blanket".

3:27am Try convince Monkey that Mommy's blanket is just fine.

3:27:30am Monkey begins screeching for "horsepower blanket" at roughly the noise level of a freight train. The Yankee continues snoring.

3:27:45am I venture off to find "horsepower blanket".

3:31am I return with beloved "horsepower blanket", sippy cup and stubbed toe.

3:32am I try to reestablish my space in bed, by moving Monkey towards the Yankee. Success!

3:34am I return to my coma sleep.

3:56am Monkey kicks me in the rib. Ow.

3:57am I reorient Monkey from his current east-to-west sleeping position.

3:58am Resume sleep.

4:27am Monkey kicks me in the upper thigh. Ow.

4:28am I reorient Monkey from his southeast-to-northwest sleeping position.

4:29am Resume sleep.

5:41am Monkey begins whining to snuggle Mommy despite the fact that he is currently sleep in a south-to-north position with his legs draped over my stomach.

5:42am Reorient monkey to the proper north-to-south sleeping position with my arm trapped below his neck & shoulders.

5:48am My arm goes numb. Attempt to remove Monkey from arm, resulting in whining Monkey & a grumble/snort from the Yankee.

5:53am Lull Monkey back to sleep my rubbing his back. My rear end is now hanging off the side of the bed.

5:54am Attempt to resume sleep with unsupported rear end.

5:54:15am Realize that this is an impossible sleeping position. Gently slide Monkey towards the Yankee.

5:55am Success! Resume sleep.

6:00am Alarm goes off. Poke the Yankee, as it is his alarm. No response. Climb out of bed & fumble for snooze button. Climb back into bed.

6:09am Alarm goes off again. Shake the Yankee this time. He groggily instructs me to hit snooze. Climb out of bed & press snooze button. Climb back into bed.

6:13am Monkey is awake and whining for his trucks. "Mommy! Twucks, pwease? Twucks, pwease? Twucks, pwease? Mommy! Twuck, pwease? Twucks, pwease?"

6:14am I remind the Monkey that is sleepy time, not truck time.

6:14:30am "Waaaaaaa! Twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks...."

6:15am "No trucks right now. We'll play with our trucks when it's time to get up. Now, come snuggle Mommy."

6:16am "TWUCKS, PWEASE?"

6:17am "No trucks. Please lay down."

6:18am Alarm goes off again. Shake the Yankee to no avail. Climb out of bed & hit snooze button. Monkey is chanting "Twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks...."

6:20am "Do you want to watch SuperWhy?"

6:21am "No! Twucks, twucks, twucks....Horepower Movie?"

6:23am Fumble for remote. I am rewarded with sweet Lullaby of Sheryl Crow's Real Gone (opening scene of Cars) and a quiet Monkey. The Yankee is still snoring. The dog howls downstairs.

6:23:01am Resume sleep.

6:27am Alarm goes off again. Shove the Yankee & growl for him to deal with the alarm. The Monkey laughs.

6:32am Monkey begins whining to "Go wake Sissy up! Go wake Sissy up! Watch horsepower movie with Sissy!"

6:33am "No, we don't wake up Sissy."

6:34am "Twucks, pwease? Wake up Sissy, pwease?"

6:35am "No trucks and NO waking up Sissy. Watch your movie for 5 more minutes."

6:36am The alarm goes off again. The Yankee hits snooze, again. The dog is in full blown howl downstairs.

6:37am Sissy/Bug starts crying. Monkey is thrilled and tags along to rescue Sissy from her crib.

6:39am Attempt to fit 3 people in the half of the bed not being occupied by the Yankee. Restart Monkey's movie. Nurse the Bug.

6:41am The Monkey begins whining for his "twucks" again. Shove the Yankee & tell him to get up, turn off the alarm & go get the boy's trucks. Now.

6:43am The Yankee complies & stumbles downstairs to find the trucks. Forgets the alarm.

6:45am The alarm goes off again. I cannot move because I am nursing a Bug who thinks that 11 hours of sleep is far too long to go without sustenance, so I'm forced to listen to the "bomb about to explode" warning noises from the alarm. The Monkey resumes his chant of "twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks, twucks..."

6:49am The Yankee returns with one truck. The Monkey does not approve and melts down for "more twucks". I glare at him & tell him to turn off the damn alarm and go get 2 more trucks.

6:51am The Bug is done nursing & is now touching the Monkey's only truck. The Monkey is ANGRY.

6:52am The Yankee returns with a whole bin of cars & trucks (smart ass), puts them down and locks himself in the bathroom. (Punk.)

6:53am Dole out cars & trucks on the floor for both kids to play with.

6:55am Give the Monkey a time out for not sharing/snatching toys from his sister.

6:56am The Monkey howls from time out, the Bug enjoys having all the cars & trucks to herself and I make a quick escape to the other upstairs bathroom.

6:58am Free the Monkey from time out after he apologizes to Sissy/Bug and says he will share.

6:59am Check my email while the kids play together.

7:01am Give Monkey another time out for not sharing/snatching toys.

7:04am Free the Monkey from time out after he apologizes and says he will share. Again.

7:06am Hear the Yankee humming in the bathroom & decide I'm going to hurt him, if I don't evacuate the general vicinity.

7:07am Usher the kiddos (with all cars and "twucks", of course) downstairs to start breakfast.



And now, you lovelies, have been brought into the inner sanctum of my glamorous life, at least the first 4 hours of it. Glamorous, isn't it? I know, you wish you could be me.