These days I often feel like I have been totally and completely hijacked.
It’s as if Noah is a miniature computer-programming genius (I picture him looking like a 15-inch-tall Riley from National Treasure) that has broken into my system controls, cracked my password, disabled my alarm system and security cameras, and scrambled all of my central commands.
Things I used to love, I hate.
Things I used to hate, I love.
Things I never did, I do.
Things I always did, I don’t.
My love of Chicken Salad has been solidly replaced with a NEED for Buffalo Sauce.
My usually efficient and energetic self has been replaced with the barely-functioning-nearly-comatose person that I mentioned in my last pregnancy log.
My typically unemotional self has been replaced with someone that might or might not cry with or without reason at any given moment, sending both my husband (who is not used to a crying wife) and my daughter (who, every time upon witnessing me cry, has to recount the one and only time she ever saw me cry prior to my pregnancy) into panicked-tailspins.
And, the snoring.
Pre-Natal-Ali cracked the snoring code also, although it took her a little longer to do it (she’s apparently not QUITE as geeky as Noah – which I find to be a VERY scary thought).
With Ali, by the time I was nine months pregnant, I was reportedly snoring so loudly that Chris had exhausted all of his strategies (including bouncing on the bed in an attempt to partially rouse me) and absolutely couldn’t sleep unless he had complete-100%-sound-blocking-earplugs in.
But here I am, six months pregnant (or claiming to be), and apparently snoring again.
I became aware of this fact the other morning from the following conversation with Chris…
“I think I might be snoring again – I woke myself up last night once or twice.”
“Oh yeah. You are DEFINITELY snoring again.”
“Really? I’m sorry. Is it bad?”
“Not bad enough for earplugs. Yet. ….
…but I have been trying to get you to quit snoring by cuddling with you in an attempt to get you to change positions.”
“I noticed you’d been cuddling with me more! But I just thought you were feeling especially endeared to me for carrying your child. I didn’t realize it was SELFISH cuddling.”
“It wasn’t selfish!!! You’re obviously having trouble breathing!! I’m just trying to help you BREATHE so that you can LIVE!!”
“Well I can’t help it if I have YOUR CHILD sleeping on my lungs.”
“Exactly! Your snoring is just a wonderful reminder of the beautiful act of service you’re doing for me by bearing me a son.”
“mmm hmm. Well at least you won’t have to cut off my head for making only girl-children.”
And so, if you’re trying to think of a baby present you can get for Chris, earplugs might be helpful. VERY soon. Because miniature Riley is proving himself to be quite adept at hijacking whatever system he pleases.
Now I’m off to find some more buffalo sauce. I wonder how it’d be on my Cheerios this morning…??