Insomnia...kinda

We have a bed problem.

Actually....I have a bed problem. My husband has no bed problem at all. He falls into bed somewhat in the vicinity of his side, turns the tv on, and immediately begins to snore. I have learned over time to not bother protesting his television choices because in about four minutes, I can usually just swipe the remote from his comatose fingers and adjust to my liking.

My problem is not with the television.

My problem is the bed. Once my dear husband is asleep, he likes to flail his appendages around all willy nilly wherever they may land. Which is frequently on my side. And while this would be less problematic if he were, say....five foot six....this is not the case. When his arm comes flying across to flip sides, it is like the kraaken has flung a tentacle up out of the water and smacked it down on the other side of the ship it is taking down. In this overly dramatic tale....I am the ship.

Once flipped over, my husband now occupies the middle of the bed - which by very definition is composed of a good deal of 'my half' of the bed. You could fit an ENTIRE person on the other side of him - on his half. I sit up frequently and glare across his broad shoulders at the beautiful expanse of sheet on the other side. Sometimes I futiley shove him to get him back over. He usually sleepily pats my head like he thinks I am trying to be sweet and cuddle and then leaves his arm draped across my forehead. Sometimes I get up and angry march to the bathroom where I mutter and angry pee and then stomp back and huddle in my corner. Sometimes I yank out technology and complain about it to the entire internet ...

Now, our bed is pretty big. In theory, there should be plenty of room. However, we multiply as the night goes on. And no one is walking into our room and walking over to the empty spot on his side of the bed. They want to sleep on mom. Not near mom, not next to mom....ON mom.

I thought this would pass. I listened to all the feel good, oh-they-are-only-little-once, it-goes-so-fast, mumbo jumbo and I have white knuckled it through. I have yet to find this to be true regarding sleep habits. Despite threats, bribery, melatonin, and great sobbing tears (mine and theirs) we have not come out on the other side yet. My son sleeps upside down in my bed with his head at my feet and his legs pointed up at me. He likes the lay in between my legs - which was cute when he was two feet tall but way more dangerous now that he is about to turn seven. My daughter will sleep on the pillow but must be in the middle or she rolls off the bed repeatedly like a drunken frat boy trying to sleep on a narrow sofa. The edge calls to her. So I stick her in the middle where she emulates her father. She looks like me, but she is his mini-me. Baby kraaken right there. So I end up in bed with Big Kraaken and Baby Kraaken flailing for supremacy up top and my stealth ninja attacking from below.


My question for every well-meaning grandma that offers me this enjoy-it-while-you-can speech....when did you sleep?? And do courts accept sleep deprivation as a plausible explanation for stabbing your happily slumbering husband with the business end of an eyebrow shaper?

Asking for a friend...