To pee or to sleep? Not that is the question

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The pains and urgings of outrageous misfortune

Or to take arms against a sea of liquid

And by opposing ignore them and get a diaper.

I forgot something when I talked about the worst things about pregnancy.  Every night about midnight or two or three or four-thirty or if I’m real lucky all of those times, I wake up to pee.

Having the bladder the size of a pee is annoying at the best of times.  It means going to the bathroom at almost every place you run an errand.  It means having to go at least once, usually twice during the once in a blue moon dinner with your spouse.  It means going to the bathroom during movies.

At least there is an upside to day peeing.  You know where every bathroom is in every store you visit.  You become less concern of germs, but you do wash her hands and spray them with anti-cuties.  You learn always to pee before you go, just in case you get stuck in traffic.  You become a pro at peeing into a cup.

But the bitch is the middle of the night wake up call.  Like you need that.  Like you need to wake up from your precious sleep.  Sleep that will soon become terribly more precious in a few months when you’re woken up at least once a night or several times a night to feed, change, and sooth a baby.  I have to agree with one of my pregnancy books that people who say that this is to prepare the mother to deal with sleepless nights is like saying dieting prepares someone for starvation.  And I personally think we should be able to wrap that person on the back of the head.  Sure, violence isn’t the answer, but it would make this pregnant mama feel better.  Or is that the hormones talking?  Or the lack of sleep?

Speaking of lack of sleep, did I ever mention the lack of sleep Tornado E had as a baby?  The kid woke up several times a night to feed, even one horrible night where he fedd EVERY TWO HOURS.  Tornado S slept through the night around the sixth week or so.  Yeah, I obviously don’t birth normal babies . . . yet.  But I do remember with Tornado S, I was a happier mama even with a two-year-old trying to boycott naps, still crawling in bed with us, and demanding to have a voice to say no.

Ah, sleep the root of and solution of all life’s problems.

Yes, I am at that point of my life that when asked which would I prefer sex or sleep, I would say hand me the pillow and shut the lights.  Because I don’t get to snag a cat nap when I want; I don’t have down time to relax; I have much more to do during the day then I ever had pre-children.

So if you excuse me, I have to go pee.

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