4 AM
I wake up feeling like something is off. I get up to go to the bathroom and on my way back I realise the hubby is not in bed. I check the time — 4 AM. I remember he was in bed before me, but that still doesn’t explain why he’s not here now. I assume he must be up working so I make my way to his office, but it’s empty. I rub my eyes and shut the office door. The house is quiet and my cats appear, wondering why I am up.
I scour the house, but he cannot be found. However, I find his coffee mug in the kitchen indicating he is indeed up.
I climb the two flights of stairs back to our bedroom, grab my phone, and I call him — he answers cheerily with an enthusiastic “hey!” as if he’s happy to hear from me. Confused, I ask him where he is. He’s working out outside. I ask him if he knows what the time is, and he responds with,
“why are you awake then?”
My mind has a spasm and I take a split second to compose my thoughts before answering his questionable question.
“Why are YOU up so early?”
“I have so much to do, I have to be up.”
He speaks as if he has done this forever and gives me a judgemental look, like why have I not been doing the same all along?!
Before I lead the conversation down a longwinded path requiring more than usual brain energy on time management, logic, and efficiency, I praise him for his new habit building and to make sure he’s quiet coming in as we DON’T WANT TO WAKE THE BABY.
The Inevitable Feeling of a Mother’s Guilt
We say our love yous and hang up. I turn off the bedside lamp and stick my earplugs in with the intention of going back to sleep.
***
5 AM
I’m still awake. Being in my 30s means backaches are a thing now. My cats are in and out of the room disturbing me, which is purely my fault for leaving the door open for them — an opportunity I only give them to enter when hubby is absent since he cannot stand them being in the same room when we’re sleeping.
Rightly so, actually. These two cats are not normal, they won’t just settle by your feet and sleep. They purr and kneed their claws into your back when you’re asleep and then when you chuck them off the bed they decide to jump and run up and down the furniture, using the room as a fun cat circuit.
Anyway, I digress.
Cats back out of the room, I decide to get back to important business.
I analyze my husband’s extreme lack of time management skills and diagnose him with insomnia & ADHD mostly, with a dash of various other personality disorders. I tell myself to mentally note these terms so I can properly research them in the morning.
***
5:10 AM
Andriel, our son, keeps whining in his sleep, causing the monitor to light up and interrupt my process of going back to sleep.
I am getting a bit irritated at my now overtired state.
You know when you wake up in the middle of the night there is a small window you must not be late to if you want to go back to sleep?
I missed it, clearly.
Partly my fault, I know, I stuck my nose in my husband’s business.
But he changed the environment I went to sleep in, so I win my internal argument of who to blame for tonight’s bout of sleep deprivation and subsequent moodiness for the day.
I’m desperate. I close my eyes again.
***
God Knows What Time it is Now
After tossing and turning, I find a spot I’m suddenly very comfortably sinking into. Reality and dreams are meeting and I feel myself going. Bliss.
I hear a loud thud followed by another whine from the baby monitor. And another one. The sound of metal clinking suddenly invades the room. I open my eyes and let out a groan.
I deduct that my dear husband has decided to build his new office chair.
I check the time again.
5:30 AM.
At 5:30 in the morning on a Sunday, he decides it is the best time to DIY a chair.
Because, when else could my Busy and Important Husband have any other time to do it, other than when the world is sleeping, on a Sunday morning?
I think about how typical it is of him to want to announce to the world that today is the start of a brand new morning routine, for he cannot conquer and triumph silently.
I mentally summon the chair out of the window and send it smashing to pieces. Instead of acting on my impulse, I decide a message to my husband’s Whatsapp showing my mild annoyance will suffice.
“Andriel keeps waking up from the noise and I can’t sleep 🙁 can you keep it down?”
The expectation of how he should respond:
“Hey baby. I’m really sorry, I didn’t think building the chair would be so noisy because I don’t think. I have now stopped, and I will come to bed for a cuddle. I love you sweetie.”
Reality:
No reply.
The banging continues.
I am now wide awake and livid.
I send another message, this time a little more firm, in the form of question and exclamation marks.
***
5:45 AM
The husband finally graces me with a response:
“I’m not making noise. Let me know if you want me to take the monitor.”
I feel like piercing the monitor through the floorboards, thunder and lightning bolting through the ceiling of his office. But instead, I get up, as I would have normally got up at around 6 anyway, the difference being that I woke up at 4 today.
I try to look at this extra time as an opportunity to get some work done. I will not be beaten by a lack of sleep for one night. I have done this before. I’ve got this.
I open the laptop and start off by reading a couple of articles to inspire thinking in me, and possibly, an idea or two for articles of my own.
Andriel is UP.
I send another message to his father.
“You’re getting him today.”
“OK.”
And so the day begins, and I no longer want to pretend to be mad for I wouldn’t have it any other way.
—
This post was previously published on Medium.com.
***
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Photo credit: Matthew Henry on Unsplash