My glamorous life

Besides the obvious challenges of managing carsickness on public transportation, maintaining some vague sense of personal style while wearing maternity clothes and carting around a toddler, and keeping myself from eating my body weight in Haribo Tropical Fruit ( a mystical urge, really), it’s gotten to that stage in this new pregnancy where sleep is not my friend. Normally I am one of those lucky people for whom sleep is a nearly instantaneous two-step process; I lie down, I fall asleep. Over the years this has caused a lot of abruptly abbreviated conversations and snide comments from my spouse, who is of the slower to sleep variety. It’s usually not a good idea to try to talk to me about anything meaningful after 11 pm. – you won’t get much.

But not now. Both the permanently stuffy nose and the indigestion (don’t ask), get worse when I lie flat, so I usually start the process of delaying the inevitable by moving the dog, propping up on a pillow, and pretending to read for a minute, while actually thinking about the common sense misfire of now having to raise two children who are likely to outweigh me before their combined ages add up to five (will I have to stand on a chair to project authority?). When I think I might be sleepy enough to counteract the discomfort, I wiggle down in the bed, shove the dog out of the way again, and try to assume a position that might be conducive to rest. Lately this has involved extra pillows. The other night, all my moving and shaking seemed to be accompanied by an inquisitive silence from the other side of the bed, whose occupant was attempting to remain as still as possible in the process. Finally, after a last energetic round of piling, punching, and shoving, came the question: “Are you building a fort?”

Yes, I am.