Tick Tock, Tick Tock

I was laying in bed, nursing a headache and squeezing my eyes closed tightly in an effort to will sleep to come to me, but it didn't happen. So, per my usual, my insomnia has brought forth a craving to write.

I have a hard time understanding why I must continuously convince Gigi that naps are good and finally compromise that she doesn't have to sleep, just "rest." She usually ends up giving into to the snoozing gods anyway for a good two hours, while I am silently left bartering my first-born child in exchange for the opportunity for my own nap.

However, when the time comes for me to finally crawl into bed at the end of the day, I turn out the lights, rev up my humidifier, place my glass of water and chapstick nearby and wait....and wait...and wait. It seems odd to me on the nights that Pat is away, I tend to sleep restlessly, if at all. When he is home, it is a completely different story and by 10 o'clock on the dot, I am hit with a sledgehammer and out like a light. During times like this, when I am watching the hours melt away until I have to get up again, I try to sort out what exactly I am missing.

I certainly miss his company, but I do not miss his cover-stealing spread eagle spider monkey sleep habits. My big skinny man may appear to exude masculinity, but I am about to out him. He is a cuddle FREAK. When we intially turn out the lights, I enjoy some light spooning for about 5 minutes. I like feeling his warmth next to me, but it isn't too long before I need my space. But not Pat. Ohhh no, once he sticks himself to me, he leech-like ALL NIGHT LONG. Just the other night I recall waking up 3 times.

Time #1: I'm cold. Our bed is the host to a flat sheet, fleece blanket, and down comforter, but at 2am, there isn't a cover to be found. I decide I need to handle this problem with a bit of force based on its frequency, so I stand up, grab the edge of the covers and YANK them to my side. Somehow, to my horror, he comes with the covers and my next feat is to scoot him over, back to his side. I cross the room to his side of the bed and bend down. I try to coax him over with niceties but when he isn't responding to my cooing, I put my hands on my hips (Ashley pouting-pissy style) and yell his name. He jolts awake. Scoots. Problem solved.

Time #2: I'm f-a-l-l-i-n-g! What in the world?! I feel the edge of the bed getting closer and in my sleepy haste, I am frantically grasping at the night stand and my pillow. Apparently, my knight-in-shining-armor has felt the need to claim his territory and x-marks the spot! He is laying on his stomach in the shape of a perfect X. Now, if you will allow me to mentally illustrate this scene for you, I can be found folded in half, having been eaten by the outside portion of his X-clamation of space...

FINALLY, some sleep....

Time #3: It seems as though only mere minutes have passed since the previous debacles and already I find myself awake again. This time the culprit is my husband's effort at a lullaby for himself...snoring. I shove a hip in his direction. Nothing. In fact, its now louder. Okay, fine. I elbow him in his ribs, twice. Still nothing. I pull out my triple threat: hip-check, elbow, and yelling his name all at one time. His response: "What?! What's wrong, baby?" Me (through gritted teeth): "Puh-leese flip onto your side so you stop snoring." Pat: "Oh sure, I'm sorry honey." And so he does, right into a death-grip half nelson for me. But alas, I give in and close my eyes, a prisoner in my own bed.

Now, if you see my husband on the street and confront him about this situation, be assured, that he will deny it. He seems to think that his cuddling addiction is not transparent, but I beg of you...look through his pictures on Facebook and I promise that within the first 20, you will see him wrapped around someone or something...then, you will know the truth.

Apparently though, he is onto something; because as the minutes tick away now, my eyes are not becoming any heavier. I feel compelled to seek out late night episodes of  Law and Order or scrounge for a snack. All the while, missing my spider monkey...