Damn Valentine's candy.
Chocolate and sugar and caffeine flowed through my veins and wreaked havoc on my mind and my body as I tossed and turned for hours on Valentine's night.
I peered over at my husband, sleeping soundly as drool dripped from his chin and air whistled through his nose hairs. I was jealous of his sleep, and I had the urge to put a booger in his hair. Because I'm childish. And I like putting boogers on people when I'm jealous of them.
No I don't.
But I have.
I turned my pillow over every ten minutes, not enough time for the flip side to cool. I kicked and I sighed. I got up and paced the house and checked on my children. I found a Junie B. Jones book in the hallway and read a few pages. The B is for Beatrice. Junie B. is hilarious.
I stared at the Equate brand Sleep Aid in the medicine cabinet. I counted on my fingers how many hours of sleep I would get if I took the medicine NOW. I slammed the cabinet door and paced some more. I found the boy's missing Spiderman houseshoe. I talked to the fish. The fish is hilarious.
I cursed at the Hershey's Kisses on the kitchen counter. I opened the medicine cabinet and counted again how many hours of sleep I would get if I took the sleep aid NOW. No, NOW.
Since my children were out of school for parent teacher conference on February 15th, I didn't have to wake incredibly early to fix Toaster Strudels and brush hair and chase the naked 2 year old around the house with Nemo underoos and Batman socks. If I took the sleeping pills at 3 am, I could still get six hours of sleep. Those kids would sleep until nine. Surely they would sleep until nine on their day off.
So I took them, and I jumped into the bed, eager to rest, to dream. I waited. I tossed. I turned.
By 5 am, I accepted the fact that I'd been defeated. Diphenhydramine was no match for the copius amounts of Ferrero Rocher caffeine. It's cocoa-y goodness was too strong for some puny over the counter generic brand sleep aid. I needed to pull out the big guns...Ambien, Lunesta, Elephant Tranquilizer.
Unfortunately, I do not possess such pharmeceuticals. I only have the Equate brand Sleep Aid.
I sort of dozed in and out of consciousness from 5 to 6, when husband's alarm blared. Once he was showered and out the door for work, I was free to turn on the ceiling fan (he's anti- fan because it makes him sneeze) and sprawl across the entire bed.
Sleep found me. The ceiling fan blades sliced through the air. The sound soothed me. I was so relaxed and warm and toasty beneath the down comforter that a smile covered my face. I was going to get at least two hours of wonderful sleep. Surely they would sleep until nine.
I sat up in the bed, heart pounding, wide awake, sure that Rambo was in the kitchen assaulting the stainless steel refrigerator.
Balloons. My daughter's heart-shaped balloon bouquet had been sucked into the ceiling fan.
"Mama!!? What was that!!?"
They didn't sleep until nine.
And neither did I.
Damn Valentine's balloons.