Who wouldn't want to go to Yoga? Me. I just want to sleep.

"Who Wouldn't Want to go to Yoga? (Me. I really want to sleep)."
-Tessa Osborne

Some of us talked today about the time change being horrible. This is how the time change went for me.

Sunday night my son fell sound asleep around 7:00pm, which was great, because it gave me enough time to try and finish my homework I can't finish when he's awake, because he's a monster. I finally went to bed around 10pm, thinking he would be up around 6 or 7 in the morning.

At 11:30pm, my dog took an enormous shit outside my bedroom door, causing me to wake up from the stench wafting into my once sleeping nose. My husband was, of course, awake, yet didn't notice the dog take the dump, nor notice the smell. Once I cleaned my carpet, that may as well just be a giant stain, I fell back asleep.

At 12:30am, I awoke to the dog scratching at my face and sitting on my head in an effort to make it known that he would like down from the bed and jumping was too stressful. I then noticed my husband, Joshua, had fallen asleep, once again, with the lights and the TV on. So after smacking his arm repeatedly and making him turn it off, I fell back asleep.

At 1:30am, I was woken up by the same husband whose sense of smell must be deadened to not smell the dog dump earlier. He was rolling around after a bad dream. After asking if he was ok (because sometimes I'm a good wife), he informed me how scary it was, rolled back over, and I fell back asleep.

At 2:00am, my son decided he had slept quite enough for one evening, and instead took to laying smack in between Joshua and Myself. I tried to ignore him, and upon doing so, opened my eyes to find his face two inches from my own, and him saying "I can't see your eyeballs." Then he needed water. Then a snack. I did not fall back asleep.

Instead, at 2:30am, my son began to scream that "he wasn't made to sleep" and "he wasn't made to lay down." Realizing I would not convince him otherwise, I tried to re-direct his attention and take him to the living room couch to watch an episode of Little Einsteins (a horribly repetitive show on the Disney Channel about these incredibly creepy children who ride around in a rocket and sing songs).

At 4:45am, we were still awake watching the two hundredth episode of Little Einsteins, when my son decided he preferred to lay on the floor and began to roll off the couch multiple times. I still had not fallen back asleep.

At 5:00am, I took my son to his room and made him lay down, which prompted my now exhausted child to scream at me at the top of his lungs, waking Joshua up. Joshua had no idea what was happening, so stood there confused as all get out for five minutes until I sent him back to bed.

At 5:15am, my son calmed down, and I fed him crackers. Figuring I would never sleep again, I then ate half a loaf of bread and a box of Girl Scout Cookies, because I didn't know what was happening and I was losing my mind.

At 6:30am, I convinced my son to lay back down and shut his eyes, which he did immediately, and five minutes later was snoring. I adjusted the dog (who had taken to laying on my legs on the couch), and moved the now sleeping child over, so I could lay down on the couch too. I huddled under the one blanket I had, and curled into the fetal position to ensure my son didn't kick me and the dog didn't bite me.

At 6:45am, I started to doze off.

At 7:00am, they started the construction behind our house, by running something that was buzzing as loud as a jet engine and when it woke me up, it made me wish said jet engine could run over me.

At 8:00am, my son woke up, clearly refreshed after his night of sleep, and he wanted to play. Realizing I was so tired, my eyes were swollen shut, I half stumbled/half fell into my bedroom to wake up my husband. I fell into bed and wrapped some sort of sheet around my feet and told Joshua it was 8:00, and I had to sleep. I may have said something incoherent, but I don't remember what happened next because I was finally asleep. I got to sleep from 8:00-9:30am, and my son didnt sleep again.

At 10:00am, my son woke me up screaming that he had brought home a bagel for me when him and Joshua went to get breakfast. I still didn't know what was happening, and couldn't feel my head.

At 11:00am, i desperately tried to convince my son (and his bright red and puffy eyes) that laying down to rest is something batman would do (since he was wearing a batman shirt), and that resting keeps him strong to fight the bad guys.

At 1:30pm, Batman finally fell into a much needed sleep. I fell asleep immediately, and remember nothing except waking up in a pile of my own drool with my eyes still completely swollen shut.

At 3:00pm, I tried to convince Batman to watch a movie or to lay still, but that wasn't something that sounded fun to him. Instead, I cried quietly, while stuffing another ten Girl Scout Cookies into my mouth, sure this was how my life ended. Then I did the dishes.

It's Tuesday and I'm still tired.