This morning I woke up furious at my husband.
Let's revisit the many faults he had going for him, shall we?
It all started in the middle of the night when I was awoken every 1-2 hours by some little person that wanted to use me as a human pacifier. There's no way anyone could be that hungry. And trust me I've tried so hard (SO HARD) to get him to love his pacifier as much as I think he should, but he only will love it during daylight hours. The boy is some sort of time-telling genius I tell you. I know you are probably thinking, "Why get mad at your poor husband about that?" Well, I ask you...why am I the only one with functioning mammary glands? Why does he get to just lie there and sleep while I have to stay awake? Did he just deep sigh because my ipod light is too bright for him? (This is about the time I pointed it inches from his face willing him to wake up so I could burn off his retinas with my super-strong ipod light.)
Next offense: the other boys woke up at various other times throughout the night. Sure, I could probably only hear them because I was awake anyways, but he somehow should have sensed that there was trouble when I got out of bed to see what the problem was, and "accidentally" kicked him on my way out.
And it continued: It escalated when the boys (who had skipped naps and gone to bed too late) woke up at 6:30 (SIX THIRTY!). They didn't just wake up. They threw things, fought loudly, and screamed their ways out of bed at 6:30. So I got up. While you-know-who acted like he didn't have a clue what was going on.
Could it get worse you ask?! I decided I was going to put a movie on. (Because what better way to reward terrible behavior, than to give them exactly what they want?) Only, there were no batteries in the remote. How dare he take the batteries out of the remote right before I would OBVIOUSLY be using it at 6:30 in the morning?! By this time I was livid. I was shouting at my children through half-opened sleepy eyes, and I was on a rampage looking for some flippin' batteries.
And that's when he did it.
Somewhere between me slamming drawers in our bedroom he actually had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to lay down.
So I told him as nicely as I could possibly muster:
"YESIWANTTOLAYDOWN! I'MSOFREAKINGTIREDTHATICAN'TBREATH! IHAVEHADNOSLEEPANDNOWEVERYONEISAWAKE!"
He then had the nerve to get out of bed and insist that I get in it.
So with the huffs and puffs of a million wolves I slammed my body down into bed, but not without making it painfully obvious that I wasn't happy about the timing. I think I even mumbled a "I'LLNEVERBEABLETOSLEEPNOW." as he walked out the door.
I was so mad.
And I really couldn't sleep. But not because I was all worked up, or because I had already been awake for 20 minutes.
It was because I came to the terrible realization that I was a jerk.
A jerk that was being a jerk to everyone who didn't deserve it.