Luke got home Friday morning at 1 a.m. As I was getting into bed at 8:30 p.m. Thursday I thought to myself "hm, maybe he will surprise me and get home tonight at like 1 a.m. instead of tomorrow at a normal person's hour." This seemed like a pretty fair thought because, let's be honest, the Army hardly ever does anything one could consider within the realms of normal personage.
Just like that.
The problem with a husband coming home is that you've spent whatever amount of time that he's been gone getting used to sleeping alone and kind of liking the fact that there is no boy/heater systematically scooching onto your side of the bed all.night.long with what appears to be one single objective: pushing you on the floor. You kind of get settled with the idea that you're in a large bed here and, if you want to sleep diagonal with your head on one side and your feet on the other, by gum, you can and will. And do.
And an even greater problem is this -- that when the husband comes home after such an absence at 1 a.m. (think: mid Amy slumber), you don't have any time to reasses your sleeping philosophy for the night before bedding down and are all set on the diagonal position. And of course he wants to get in bed too. And of course you can't just fall back asleep because now you have to stay on your own side of the bed and gird your loins against the pushing. And all that stuff.
It was a restless night.
I'm thinking about purposefully taking up a benedryl addiction. Well, not purposefully being addicted, but taking benedryl regularly knowing that I could form a habit. Whatever. The point is it helps me sleep all. night. long. ... and dreamlessly, too. Both of those things have been evading me recently -- I have terrible, weird dreams and wake constantly, even without the boy/heater to take up space ...