thepigeoncoop

Musings about life in the Pigeon household

I Can’t Sleep Anymore

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I can’t sleep. I sooo can’t sleep.

Yesterday I found out that my neighbour’s house was broken into. And the house across the alley from us.

So every noise I hear, every creak from the kids’ bunk bed, every bump from the kitties, every car driving by outside… I’m awake and alert and waiting.

Sigh.

Not that this lack of sleep thing is new.

I’ve had a crazy relationship with sleep.

I’m an anxious person. And I think I’m getting worse in my old age.

Old age. Hah. Not even forty yet, but I feel old.

Maybe from lack of sleep? Sheesh. Ya think?

I remember being a kid and not being able to sleep. I’d get out of bed, head downstairs in stealth-mode and stand in the hallway of the basement, listening to my folks watch TV. When I tired of that I’d make a little noise and wait for them to notice me.

They never got angry. Probably a little upset that I had school the next day and was still awake way past my bedtime. But my mom would lead me back to my room, and sit on the edge of my bed, rubbing my back and trying to calm me and my wandering mind long enough for sleep to take over.

Fast forward. Now with kids off to a new school and a gazillion things going on at home and all the stuff that entails (laundry, bills to be paid – how I wish money grew on trees – and endless errands, are the top three)… plus a possible job in the future… my sleeplessness is worse than ever this week!

Add to that the idea that my house could be under siege from some whacko looking to pinch my valuables for his drug money or whatever the hell people need to break into other people’s homes for…. yeah, I’m frazzled. And tired.

I feel that I should put a little disclaimer in here. If any of this seems to ramble on and not really make sense, you’ll know why.

Of course I realize that at my age, my sleeplessness can be pre-determined by what time of the month I’m in.

Women already know what I’m talking about. For instance – ever have the cruddiest sleeps the week before Auntie Flo comes to visit?

Sorry boys. That’s all I’ll say about that.

Except for this.

Hormones suck.

They do.

Not only did I have to go through cramping and headaches and all the wonderful additions that come with Auntie Flo’s monthly visit (aka zits, bloating – all that sexy stuff, right ladies?) but now I’m nearly 40 and I’m still suffering through all that crapola? Seriously?

Zits.

Seriously???

Now I have migraines to add to the wonderful mix from all these hormones.

And sore, aching joints.

And sleepless nights.

You know what I love though? More than anything?

When hubby is sleeping soundly next to me.

And usually with a deep, even breathing.

Until it turns to snoring.

What I like even more is when he’s all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning (he is a Pigeon, after all) and asks how I slept.

I tell him I was awake from 3:00-4:30.

And then I brace myself.

“Oh no, honey,” he says, “why were you awake?”

And then I find myself eyeing the butcher knife.

Just kidding… ish.

If I frigging knew why I was frigging awake, and how to frigging get back to frigging sleep, I frigging would.

That whole scenario ranks up there with another of my favourites. He’ll kill me for this one, but I’m sharing.

It has to do with him bounding into the kitchen (usually the morning after another sleepless night of mine) and telling me he just weighed himself and lost 1.3 pounds since yesterday. This brings it to a grand total of something like 6 pounds in three days or something.

Oh joy. Good for you.

I try to be enthusiastic for him because after all, he’s been working hard at it.

Yep, he’s been thinking himself thin.

Isn’t that usually how it’s done? Men just think to themselves – wow, I gotta trim down. And it magically melts away.

That’s the way hubby’s metabolism rolls. I’m so happy for him. Yay.

And then I start thinking about that butcher knife again.

I kid. I kid… ish.

I really gotta get some sleep though. And I know it won’t happen tonight.

The boys start school tomorrow and it is at a new school.

And while I have absolutely no doubts about pulling them from the previous school… okay, actually I do. Only with the youngest one. He was doing so well and I was told that it was a great fit for him.

So I really worry about that. But otherwise, this is a great decision for everyone.

But I know they’ll miss their buddies from school.

And then there are cut-backs with public schools so while I know that the budget cuts will trickle down to the charter school we were at, I still worry about how this will affect my kids’ education.

And now we don’t have uniforms. Which is kinda fun. Now we get to shop. With three boys. At the mall. Hooray.

But seriously – what’s in? What’s cool? I don’t want them to look like total dorks; then again, they aren’t at the age to even give it a second thought. I’ll just enjoy that while I can. I have a feeling at least one of them is gonna be a clothes-horse.

And while they’re thrilled to be rid of uniforms, I’m gonna miss them… a bit. Except for the black socks. They were the bane of my existence. Stupid black socks.

So maybe that part isn’t so bad.

And the idea that this school is in our community now. I’m pretty happy about that.

No bussing for the kids however.

But that’s okay. I’ll drive. Like I have been for the last few years. No biggie.

Except this whole “career” idea that will be happening soon. I’m waiting to hear back about a job I interviewed for. Hopefully that will work out. If it doesn’t, will I find something else?

So those are all the things I think of at night.

Along with having to organize socks today, organize Tupperware bins, get backpacks set up, bake cookies, have playdates over this morning, clean the floors (yeah, I’ve been trying to do that for about a month now – ha-ha. Not happening), buy mirrors (again) for our bathrooms, run to the grocery store for some fresh food for school lunches, return some emails, mail some receipts, get the towels off the patio and out of the rain… too late, bathe the kids and remember to finally trim their nails – doh, get on Facebook and email everyone about our special dinner night happening this weekend at our campsite, return some long-overdue library books, phone about registering the middle boy into curling and the oldest into bowling (that’s right. Bowling. Don’t ask), clean the fridge, call about the broken fridge handle, empty the cat litter, decide what to make for dinner, find some rubber boots for the boys since I left theirs at the trailer, buy toilet paper, locate jackets for the boys in case the weather doesn’t improve for the first day tomorrow, head to the dollar store for some baskets, wash the van and drop off lunch forms at the new school.

Actually, come to think of it, the boys haven’t been allowed to tour their new school yet, so there is a bit of anxiety on their parts right now.

I’m surprised they’re sleeping so well this week.

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One thought on “I Can’t Sleep Anymore

  1. C-Here….Amen sista!

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