The one where I wish I was a man

Let me preface this post with a few notes. 1) I love being a woman. This post is NOT a big coming out party where I announce that you are to start addressing me as Geraldo...or whatever the masculine form of my name might be. 2) I love Jeff. I acknowledge how much he does around the house and with the kids. He is the best husband that I could possibly imagine.

But...

I don't envy Jeff. Not usually. He has the weight of providing for our family on his shoulders. He works all day and even packs his lunch instead of eating out as an act of solidarity with his family at home. Despite all the hard work he does all day to provide for us, he comes home to a house that is often filthy, rarely has dinner prepared, and children who are hyper and a wife who is frazzled to the point of looking electrocuted. Wouldn't YOU like to have a life like that?

But...

In the middle of the night, when children are waking, I envy him.

It's not really his fault. He is a much sounder sleeper than I am. So he honestly doesn't hear the children. Really. I know this because on the occasion that I make the baby "Cry-it-out", after a full half hour of screaming baby-banshee, he will suddenly bolt awake and shake my shoulder and say, "Did you hear the baby? Is he okay?" Um, yes, Jack-ass. I've been sitting awake sweating my pj's off (remember? I get hot flashes when my babies cry?) for the last half hour. Thanks for joining the party. Only, once he realizes I am aware of the baby crisis, he is snoring just a moment later. -sigh- And I am left bathing in my rivers of sweat waiting until I can't stand it anymore and I go in and feed the baby to sleep.

And it's not really his fault that he can't help me more. The children PREFER me in the middle of the night. Perhaps it is because Andrew can either stand on my side of the bed and whisper, "Mommy? I'm coughing." and immediately get an alert adult to help him or he can go to Jeff's side of the bed and jump on his head and pull his legs out from under the covers and STILL not have a coherent parent to help him. And Michael certainly prefers me, because I am the bearer of MILK...the sweet, warm substance that will instantly render him sleepy and relaxed.

Last night, our visitors had left (thanks for coming for the weekend, Grandma and Grandpa) and Michael's cough had reduced to something not worrisome. So it was time to get tough. None of this "Mommy will feed you to sleep because you are so sick, poor baby." Nuh-uh. I went to bed at 8:30 because...well, I've been getting up all night for a while. Jeff kind of snickered at the fact that I was going to bed. Well...SCREW YOU. Perhaps if you had to get up every couple of hours you wouldn't feel so well rested. And, honestly, when your wife has had so little sleep...hinting about sex all day just isn't nice. It is literally not considerate of my feelings and situation. It is a blatant disregard for my fatigue. So...No, I will NOT SCREW YOU.

So Michael starts up crying at 10:45. I wait. Maybe Jeff will rescue him, since he was not in bed yet. Instead Jeff comes into the bedroom 10 minutes later and starts to get ready to climb into bed. I sit up and indignantly ask if he could be bothered to try and comfort the baby since he is still awake. Poor Jeff thought we were doing Cry-It-Out...not understanding that all I want is SLEEP...for more than 2 hours in a row. Jeff rocks Michael and gets him to relax, and then lays him down and comes to bed. Of course, Michael is OUTRAGED and SCREAMING and NOT IN AGREEMENT ABOUT THE NO MILK TO PUT HIM TO SLEEP. Jeff crawls under the covers and starts to do his sleep breathing. Apparently his shift is over. Which outrages me. Again...not his fault...he has tried. But sometimes I really wish that MY shift with the crying baby could be over after one 10 minute try. When I get up 15 minutes later to try and get Michael to sleep again, I sarcastically say, "Enjoy your sleep. I'll try to keep the baby quiet so he doesn't disturb you." Which was really uncalled for. Because a) it isn't Jeff's fault that the baby won't sleep and b) the baby wouldn't disturb him anyway.

I rock Michael for 10 minutes and lay him back down...screaming again. I came downstairs to play on the computer so that I wouldn't soak my sheets with my hot flashes. And after 10 minutes of baby-crying, I hear my husband go into the baby's room and try to calm him down. Aw...he really DOES love me. Of course, Michael continues crying, because he's really worked up now. After all this up and down, I finally give in at midnight and feed him to sleep. Then he's up again at 3am. I let him cry for 30 minutes and then feed him to sleep. At this point, I know my other children will be up and demanding oatmeal in a few hours, so my sleep is more important than Michael learning how to put himself to sleep. At 5:15 he is up again. This time I nudge Jeff awake and ask him to try again. He rocks Michael for 5 minutes, then comes back to bed as the baby screams. He resets his alarm because, "He's so tired." I try not to strangle him, because I know he is actually trying to be considerate by not hitting the snooze button a zillion times so I can sleep better. Except that the baby is still SCREAMING and now Lily is waking up and crying out. So Jeff is back to sleepy-land in 30 seconds while I drag myself out of bed to go get Lily some warm milk to help her stop coughing and to try and calm the baby down again. As I leave the room, I whisper in Jeff's ear, "If you harass me for sex today, I swear by all that is holy I will hurt you." Nice, eh? By the time the baby is down and Lily is calmed, it is almost 6 am. Andrew will be up in 30 minutes...so I am up for the day.

In summation...? I don't blame Jeff. I know he tries his hardest. Really? I'm just incredibly jealous of him for the entire night. Once the sun comes up, I wouldn't trade places with him for a second. Well...maybe when he gets to eat lunch in a quiet lunchroom with friends. I might trade places with him then too. Or when he gets to listen to his music during the commute to work. Maybe then too. But the rest of the time. No thanks. I appreciate all he does for our family, and I know he loves me and tries to help as much as he can. But I can still wish we could trade places during the night once in a while, right? I'm sure he has occasionally wished we could trade during the day on those instances when I am playing in the snow with the kids and he is stuck in a safety meeting all day. I guess the grass is always greener... but HIS grass is much better rested...no question.