Every day my house gets a little bit smaller; the walls close in a little more; there is less and less "free" space for anyone to steal a moment of alone time. Eight of us live in this house designed for a much smaller family, and what once was my only corner in this testosterone-filled world is now the dwelling place of baby #6. I've been kicked out of my own room, my sanctuary, my place of peace at the end of a boy-filled day...and I don't like it...not one teeny tiny bit!
Eventually, of course, he will be big enough to share a room with boy #5. But at this stage of the getting-baby-to-sleep-through-the-night game, the only thing worse than 1 baby awake at night...is 2 babies awake at night! So baby #6 resides with mom and dad in the only space designated as strictly "theirs" for the sake of letting kiddo #5 "sleep like a baby". Just like that I've been pushed out. Oh don't get me wrong, my bed (and all of my makeup and clothes) are still in "mom's bedroom", but so is little man's crib...2 feet from where I attempt to rest my head at night! Seriously, 2 feet! I could stick my leg out of the covers and touch T6!
I get dressed (and undressed) as quietly as I can in the dark, makeup is left to a minimum, and I never get to do my hair. The only girl-space left in the house was taken from me...ruthlessly! Not only was my girl time and space taken, but he has successfully taken my hope for sleep. It's been years since I've laid my head on a pillow at night and didn't wake until the new day dawns...I'd kill to "bump my head on the bed and not wake up until morning"...stupid, selfish old man rubbing his sleep in my face. It's making me bitter, friends.
Every grunt, groan, sigh, snort, whine and wiggle are detected with my cursed mom ears. I fear I may never have another good night's sleep again! I've been reduced to tip toeing in and out for fear of waking the little sleeping monster. No pillow talk allowed, either. We now use our own form of sign language to communicate to each other...only sometimes my signs get lost in translation and occasionally I have to tell Lt Hubby that he's #1 when his signs are becoming a little too Mr. Bossy Pants. And with all of this tip toeing, sign language and bossy whispering you can guess what no longer is allowed in the new nursery! Yep...no hanky panky; no trying out a toy or two; no surprise red teddy and heels! Nothing! We're too afraid of waking our ruler (plus...ew)!
This sleeping arrangement blows...actually no it doesn't...it's now a "No Blow Zone"! We've been ousted. The dudes have finally taken over. The only place I can fathom any alone time with Lt Hubby would be the back of the mini van in the garage. But who's kidding who...we aren't as young as we once were, and that sh!t hurts! I'm a queen, dang it! And occasionally I'd like to NOT sneak around like horny teenagers (anymore). The storage room is full of junk, the closet is full of clothes (and I really have some clothes that I like. I don't want "that" happening on my treasures.) The laundry room is itty bitty...and Lt Hubby has a war injury...he'd never survive the task. Where, pray tell, are we to exercise our marital rights!?! God says "be fruitful and multiply"...well, we did our part, and now we should at least get to enjoy the "benefits" of being married simply for the sake of "benefiting" someone! I've paid my dues and Lt Hubby and I have some serious lost time to make up!
For now, we tiptoe in and out or our room, stealthily put on our pj's and quietly sneak into bed. The most fun we have in there now is playing "Guess the Plot", and no it's not nearly as much fun as what you're thinking. Normally we watch TV in bed...and that's all we get to do now. Just watch! No sound! We channel flip, hoping to find something interesting to "watch" and then guess what is actually going on. Sad! Sad, I tell you!! No sex. No TV. No sleep. This must be eternal damnation or the seventh circle of hell...either way it's a good thing our procreating days are a thing of the past because neither of us are gettin' or givin' any. Whoever said "this too shall pass" can kiss my child-induced chastity belt!
- I am a SAHM of 6 little dudes. My hubby's jobs require him to be away from home way more than I would like leaving me to fly solo more often than not. Since Dr. Phil won't return my calls, and Oprah has unfriended me, my therapy has now gone public! Here is where I go to receive cheap advice, reassurance and hopefully share some laughs. Honeslty, I'd love to make you laugh until you pee! So come, grab a cup of coffee (or vodka) and join in the conversation!