How a booger nearly ended my marriage

6 Sep

So, the twincesses are nearly 8 months now, and either they are sleeping better or I am ignoring them when they make sounds now. I had to get up the the middle of the night for some juice because I knew my blood sugar was low, I wasn’t sure if the babies were on or around me because I think I was dreaming how they were sleeping with me, I kept patting myself and the surrounding area so I would drop one on the floor on the way up. You see, now that I sleep, I actually wake up in the middle of dreams.

Anyways, the twincesses had the normal and highly feared four month sleep regression which started in May. This included waking up at 2 AM and babbling for 2 hours, then screaming for food. Eventually it got worse and they made bi-hourly or hourly Mommy wake-up calls. I think one night, I had an all time high of getting up at least 20 times, I stopped counting and looking at the clock around three months. It gets really depressing when you think your babes slept so well because it must be 4 AM. When you look at your iPhone, you cry inside, because it’s only 11:30 PM. On average, I must have woken up to tend to the babes at least 10 times a night. It was getting really old. You have no idea how sleep deprived I was, I covered it up really well with good concealer and lots of coffee, and chocolate cupcakes.

My husband knew better though, no amount of cupcakes cures craziness by sleep deprivation. One night, we gently rocked the babies to sleep, put them in their cribs ever so softly, so they would not wake up, and we tip-toed out of the nursery. Usually, the first half of the night was uneventful. We probably watched netflix. Babies have radar, though. They have a 6th sense of when you are going to bed. Our heads hit the pillow, and just when we are about to hit sleep – “wahhhhhhhh!” This time, both of them were up, I always prayed only one would wake up, it was so much harder to nurse them at night together, and harder to place them softly in bed one handed. I proceeded to nurse the little babes back to sleep. My husband came to help me put them back but K had a booger, that made her nose whistle. I feel kind of bad for saying this – but I did not care. The girls have had whistling noses a few times and I never did anything about it. My husband, though, is a wonderful and doting father. He is wonderful, and our babies are definitely daddy’s girls.

My husband takes a hold of K and whispers “where are the nasal aspirators?” We had at least 6 of them, half of them unopened, from the hospital. “I don’t know” I answer with hand gestures because I want him to drop it. But he doesn’t. He searches the room in the dark, checking under the changing table, checking on top of the dresser and eventually going into the bathroom to check every nook and cranny in there; all the while making every possible noise to wake the babies up. His search continues to outside the room. Every minute his search continues for the stinking nasal aspirators, I get more angry and annoyed. Eventually, we both end up yelling about where the nasal aspirators are. My husband saying I have no organization and me telling him they are where I said they were under the sink (which they were). He finally found an aspirator and proceeded to suck a booger out of K’s nose.

Me: Really?!

Hubs: She was choking on her booger! She couldn’t breathe!

At this point, both babies are wide awake. We were not at the point yet where they would go back to sleep on their own. So we attempted to rock and sway back to sleep. The babies were not having it. I gave up, in exasperation, I said “F this, I am up for the day!” I turned on all the lights, it was only midnight. I sat around, in my pissed off mood and thought about what he said and realized that I have never heard of anyone choking or dying from a large booger. It pissed me off even more. Eventually the babies did go back to sleep – 2 hours later, it wasn’t as pretty or as peaceful as when they first went to bed but we did the best we could. That is when it pretty much hit home that my tolerance meter was at zero, I made a fight about a booger.

Luckily, because I have a wonderful hubby, he forgave me for treating him so badly that night. But I still get a laugh when I hear my husband “she was choking on a booger!” The moral of the story, get sleep, anyway you can, or you might get divorced over something small – like a booger.


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