I got news for you: I get more sleep cosleeping with my son than I do with my husband and not for the salacious reasons you're thinking. Here's how a night cosleeping with my now four-year-old son goes:
- breastfeed to sleep
- sleep for 8-10 hours
- breastfeed upon wakening (or not, because that depends on his mood and how awake he really is)
Now, here's how it goes sleeping with my husband:- sleep for a few hours peacefully, because he has fallen asleep on the couch...again
- wake up immediately upon him entering the bedroom, because he is hearing impaired and no longer has his hearing aids in at this point, thus he walks in far more loudly than he knows
- drift back off
- wake up 5 minutes later, because husband has "forgotten" to put on his CPAP and is now snoring loudly enough to wake the dead
- throw a pillow at him to signal that he better put it on or else
- get up out of bed, because he immediately fell asleep again after being hit with the pillow, still sans CPAP
- try to refrain from killing him as I rattle him awake to ensure he puts on that got danged machine
- snuggle back into bed, though my son has now rolled over so far that I now only have a generous 6 inches of space
- fall back to sleep
- wake up an hour later to find that my husband has "accidentally" knocked the CPAP off his face and has again disrupted my slumber with his log sawing from Hell
- feel around for the pillow to throw at him, but realize he's kept it for himself and is now quite comfortable with his three pillows and my one
- drag my pissed and tired self out of bed, shake him as hard as possible
- answer his very irritated "WHAT??!" with a whisper-scream to put his effing CPAP back on his MFing face before I rassin'-frassin' murdalize him
- go back to bed muttering a slew of obscenities
- find myself with now maybe four inches of room beside my son
- fall back to sleep...for an hour
- wake up to my husband's cacophony again
- fly out of bed with a fire in my belly
- search around in the dark for the CPAP on my husband's melon, where I ultimately find it, but also find that he's ripped the tube out of the face mask
- grope in the dark for the tube and beat him with it until he wakes up confused and incensed
- hover over him until he manages to figure out how to reinsert the tube
- go back to my side so furious and now way too awake to sleep
- gingerly pick up my son who has now left me with no room as he rolls around searching for me in his sleep and put him back in his spot
- play Uno & Friends for a few minutes until I come down emotionally enough to sleep again
- begin to fall asleep when I hear it AGAIN
- seemingly teleport in a fit of rage to my husband's side where I find that he has the CPAP on and the tube in the mask, but has pulled said tube out of the machine itself and is snoring SO EFFING LOUDLY AGAIN that I genuinely consider the consequences of smothering him in his sleep
- beat him with the other side of the tube until he wakes up again...pissed again, like I am the problem here...and wait impatiently, angrily, and as loudly as possible without awakening our son for him to fix the machine in his stupor
- go back to bed swearing this is the last straw and that the struggles of being a single parent would be completely worth not having to deal with this b.s. any longer
- fall asleep angry enough to induce a bad dream
- wake up from said bad dream, because husband's alarm has gone off, but he's since gone back out to the couch, so there's just this buzzing going off, threatening to wake up my sweetly sleeping son
- get up, turn off alarm
- go out to couch where I wake my husband by screaming a stream of epithets that would make you blush
- he says, "Huh? Oh, I'm sorry" as if that fixes everything and I storm back into the bedroom to stew until I fall asleep again
- thank all that is good in the world that I get to snuggle up next to this little boy, who makes all things right again
How do I even wrap this up? How do I end this blog? There will be those who think I'm completely exaggerating. I'm not. There will be those who say, "I love the sound of my partner snoring. It comforts me." I'll trade you for one night, because your understanding of snoring and mine are two very different things. There will be those who think this is funny and that we're just so cute. Every night, folks. Every. Single. Night. Not cute or funny. There will be those (this will be the largest group, because people love to hear themselves talk and fancy themselves therapists) who offer advice as if I haven't tried everything they're putting out there already. Then there will be the twelve people who know. To them, I say, you are not alone and when it's time for one of us to finally be put on trial for homicide, I will be there on the jury of your peers and will ensure you walk away free, because I get you. I get you.
