Let's Talk About Sleep

Isn't it funny. . .

Since Evil Wednesday, Johnny has had approximately 240 minutes of wakefulness each day.  That's right, do the math, about 4 hours. A day. 

I check on him regularly to make sure he is ok, and then he just falls right back to sleep.  I wake him for the next round of medicines and to drink as much as he possibly can while awake, and then he falls right back to sleep.  I wake him to see if he wants a change of scenery and help him to the couch in the living room, and then he falls right back to sleep.  I wake him because I am kissing the top of his gloriously bald head (which by the way, does NOT smell like a baby anymore, drats!), and then he falls right back to sleep.

While he sleeps, I'm totally mastering my Farmville skills (Level 41, Baby!) and putzing around the house.  I've spend so much time on Facebook, they should be sending me a thank-you note pretty soon.  Jake and I have worked on the Man Cave a bit each day.  I've helped Quinn with the unfinished homework assignments that have him grounded until he can legally buy booze.  I've actually organized the scary storage part of the basement, and I've acquired Kindle-Thumb.

SIDE NOTE:  Seriously, you will see in the not-to-distant future that Kindle-Thumb will be an actual diagnosis with an ICD-9/CPT code and everything (that's medical jargon).  If you sit and read an electronic reader for say, more than 2 hours at a stretch, the muscular part of the palm of your hand that provides function to your thumb becomes stiff and a little crampy.  True story.  I have to set down my Kindle at timed intervals now and do some thumb calisthenics just so I don't suffer a strain or a more serious bout of Kindle-Thumb.  Oh, my gosh.  I've just realized that I am so completely out of shape, that even my thumbs have given up on me.  Sad.  Very sad, indeed.

But, I digress . . .

Back to the Sleeping Toad. 

I told him today that I so totally miss him.  He is here, but he isn't.  We haven't had a good conversation since Tuesday.  We both feel the void.  He has no clue what day it is because the days are flying by while he sleeps them away.  I watch the seconds on the clock tick slowly away while I watch him sleep.  That is hard on both of us. 

Ironic that he is awake for 240 minutes, and that tends to be my nightly total of sleep.  (Don't worry, I am more than willing to nap with him during the day, and I DO!  --  ask my kids!)  And, YES, I have some things from my doctor that help in that department, so I am fine.  (I just know I am going to hear about admitting to 4 hours of sleep a night!)

If sleeping is what gets him through this nastiness, then sleep away my Toad Prince. 

Sweet dreams to all of you, too.

To Linda M.  --  Thank you, thank you, thank you.  You made me smile and look forward to something special today.