My son is having a little trouble adjusting to the “it’s a school night, get your butt to bed at 9 pm” routine. It’s either that, or he inherited his mother’s tendency for the crazy anxiety. But that’s neither here nor there, and this is not about me. Well, yeah, it is. But I digress…whatever.
Since my wonderful doctor gave me some lovely Ambien (maybe because I said something along the lines of JB was going to divorce me if I didn’t stop waking him up all hours of the night), I sometimes take that to help me sleep…especially when I have to be up early to take the kidlets to school the next day. Amazingly, I don’t feel hungover rough when I wake up.
I have discovered that it doesn’t take long for the Ambien to kick in. I took it the other night around 9:30 pm, and decided to read a bit before I got sleepy. JB said about 15 minutes later, he saw my book drop and looked up to find me out cold…he’d had to put my book on the nightstand, pull the extra pillow out from behind me, and arrange me in the bed so I wouldn’t hurt the next day!
Last night, it was around 10 pm when I took the Ambien. I was getting ready to turn everything off in the living room and head to bed, and then Diva came in. I sent her back to bed, and waited a bit…since I don’t like going to bed with the Diva of Destruction still awake. She went right back to sleep, so I attempted to go to bed again.
Aaaaand here comes Monkey. Crying because it was 10:30 pm and he couldn’t sleep. So I gave him some melatonin and sent him back to bed.
Third time is a charm, right? I finally made it to the bedroom this time…JB was already asleep. Yeah, well…not for long.
Apparently, as I was crawling into the bed, I was ranting and raving. Colorfully, I might add. JB said I muttered something about feeling doped up like a crackhead and the kid wouldn’t go to sleep. I, um, omitted a few choice words because I still can’t believe I said them. Oh, and he woke up because I made a big dramatic production of getting in the bed.
The beauty of it all? I don’t remember a thing.