Apr 1 2014
When I told people that we were considering a change-up after almost a decade on our respective sides, they recoiled in horror.
“That would be grounds for divorce in our house!” they shouted. “We would move into separate rooms before we would swap! You will never sleep again!”
I have never been a middle-of-the-bed type of girl. In my unmarried years, I trended towards the side farthest from the door, probably with the subconscious thought that if someone nefarious broke in, they’d get to the first empty pillow and give up. When my husband moved in, there was no bed-side discussion; he simply filled the gap. Read the rest of this entry →
Jul 17 2013
Note: Princess G is no Sleeping Beauty.
Remember that “day in the life” feature, where Kveller contributing editors were writing their “typical” days so as to reveal “how we do it?” Well, I decided to try my hand at writing one–and then I quit. I quit because everything that happens in my house BEFORE SEVEN F*CKING AM TOOK OVER ONE SINGLE-SPACED PAGE. It was then I realized that I need help. Specifically, your help.
To the outside world, I may seem like I have my proverbial shit comparatively together. I’m happily married, I have four healthy and terrific kids, I’m pregnant with another girl due this fall, and am a generally grateful person. And yes, it’s true, things are pretty great around here.
Is it too much to ask that all that greatness not start before 6 a.m.?
But I’ll ask anyway.
See, I just got back from a week’s vacation away with my husband–the boys stayed with their dad, the girls stayed with my parents. And it was amazing. I missed the kids very much, and my husband and I spent lots of time talking about how much we love them, how cute they are, etc. But you know when I didn’t miss those kids? At 5 a.m. BECAUSE I WAS SLEEPING, LIKE A NORMAL PERSON. Read the rest of this entry →
Jun 27 2011
So, in order to throw a little more excitement into the equation–because Heaven Forfend we should only deal with one crisis at a time–I stopped sleeping.
At first, it wasn’t anything I could control. The kids were waking up. Like constantly: Little Homie for boob and a mini-monologue about his preference for the left breast over the right, and M. for a litany of desires including but not limited to:
“Ima!!!” (again with the Ima? Can’t you just call me Mama!) “Ani rotsah lirot et Cinderella! I want to see Cinderella!” (At 1:46, and 3:32, and 4:51 in the morning. Now if she had asked to see Arrested Development or Weeds, I might be down.)
For the first two weeks, I was exhausted. Like, body slammed against the wall, shooting extra-shot latte straight into my veins to keep my eyes open exhausted. While normally, I’d have taken a little nappy nap after ditching the kids at gan and woken up just fine thank you, Little Homie and M. were taking turns playing catch with a few nasty viruses, so they were home.
For 10 days.
(B. works during the day, and as a freelance writer, I have the flexibility (oh joy!) to be home with the kids when they’re sick. Which is exactly what happens. A lot. )
Mama nappy-nap fail.
And then, as soon as their fevers broke M. started getting stomach aches. So she stayed home some more, lying on the couch, reading books, watching Sound of Music, (and making a miraculous recovery every afternoon when B. would take her to the kibbutz swimming pool). Read the rest of this entry →