Sleep Isn't For the Week

Apparently, that's what serves for a somewhat clever title today. The truth is I feel like I've had maybe seven hours of sleep in the past week. I'm sure it's really more than that, but perhaps not much more. I have no idea.

The nighttime tossing and turning, inability to get into a comfortable position, and then desperately needing to pee once I find a (semi)comfortable sleeping pose that I remember so well from my pregnancy with Westley has struck again. Four months earlier than last time!

Add to this the fact that Westley now fully rejects naps and all they stand for. When I tried to tempt him with some Mommy-Westley cuddle time this afternoon, he got in bed just long enough to head-butt me. Then the noises started: mostly "psst"-ing at me while I attempted to catnap. (I thought about locking him out of my bedroom, but I was pretty sure he would cry bitterly, or find something pointy upon which to impale himself.) An hour later, I've given up. On ever resting again.

The kicker is that when Westley stopped napping, he started having more trouble sleeping at night. It used to be that he'd toddle in and get in bed with Rob and me around 5:30 AM. This past week, it's been more like 2:00 AM. Or midnight. Or 11:30 PM.

Having the kid in our bed is an issue under normal circumstances. Sharing the covers with a tossy-turny, thrashy, likes-to-sleep-perpendicular-to-the-adults preschooler doesn't make for a restful night. Adding my out-of-whack pregnant body to this scenario makes real sleep seem impossible.

My solution to pregnancy sleep issues the first time around involved many nights alone on an air mattress. It was pretty sweet. I'd consider trying the air mattress experiment again if the thing still inflates the way it should and if I can find a place to set it up (the last time we used it was two homes and much square footage ago). Or I might just try camping out on the couch for the next 30 weeks.

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