Ok, I have to write this now.
There once was a day that I was my husband. Not literally. But I was the one who was doing what he is now. Sleeping, actually snoring, and its only ten-thirty!
When I was pregnant I was sleeping beauty. The only difference was that a kiss from my heart’s true love did not wake me up (I also don’t snore). Actually, the hubby informed me, it would make me moan and whimper and roll over to cuddle with him. But wake me up? Never. I needed all the sleep I could get. He on the other hand would stay up until three in the morning watching movies or playing video games.
My have the rolls have changed. Yesterday he (not me) brought these changes to light.
“Babe, I feel like an old man.”
“Really, why do you suppose.” I roll my eyes. I hear this every year as he gets closer to his birthday. It’s only October, I do not want to spend the next four months convincing him he’s not that old.
“Have you noticed I am out by like ten o’clock like every night?”
“That is true. You are getting old.”
With him snoring in the next room over, I have to take the moment to savor this. No longer am I the Debbie downer. I am the late-to-bed-early-to-rise mommy, who has a ridiculous amount of energy. Do I look tired? Maybe, but I am at the moment better at something than my husband.
I will take any one-up any chance I can.