Dear Hubby, in my defense I was only half awake

Dear Hubby,

I owe you a big-ass apology. Nahhh, not for throwing away your fugly acid-washed jeans when you weren’t looking. You should be thanking me for that. But I need to say I’m sorry for a bunch of other shit I’ve done.

Like last night, for example. So you know how Holden woke up at like 2 a.m. and how I didn’t hear him because I was sleeping with the pillow over my head? Uhhh, yeah, about that. Well, I kinda sorta heard him screaming but you weren’t up yet so I quickly threw the pillow on top of me so you would think I was sleeping through it. And then I let you deal with him.

Oh, and you know how on Thursday I told you at breakfast that I was up with our little douchenugget like three times in the night. Ummm, so really I was only up with him once. Or maybe not at all, come to think of it. In my defense, I lied because I knew I was having a Moms’ Night Out Thursday night and that I’d really need my sleep after a few glasses of vino and that you’d handle him if you thought I’d done it the night before. Plus, isn’t it a white lie if you’re telling it to make someone feel better? That someone being me.

And you know how I rearranged the bedroom last year? But you’re a guy, so maybe you didn’t even notice. Anyways, no, it wasn’t because I had the decorating itch. I did that so your side of the bed would be closest to the door and he’d come to you instead of me. I’m still trying to figure out why that didn’t work. Someway, somehow, that little douchenugget can walk down a pitch black hallway into a pitch black room and never stub a toe or run into a piece of furniture and end up right next to my side of the bed three inches away from my face. Every F’ing time. I swear he’s actually a bat with sonar.

And I’m not gonna belabor this, because if I do I’m gonna seem like a total a-hole and really I’m just a girl who needs her beauty sleep, which if you think about it is really for your sake since you’re the one who has to look at me all day and be attracted to me and shit.

But anyways, I’m sorry for secretly being happy those random times he wakes up from a nightmare and calls your name. I’m sorry for not coming to help last week when I heard you changing his urine-soaked sheets in the middle of the night. I’m sorry for “accidentally” kicking you many times in the middle of the night when I was preggers and couldn’t sleep and thought it was total bullshit that I should be the only one not sleeping when your sperm were half to blame.

So there you go. Forgive and forget, right? I promise not to do this shit anymore, you know, as long as I’m awake and remember not to.

Love,

The woman who’ll be snoring up a storm tonight

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My son is four and still doesn’t sleep through the night, and this is just one of 9000 reasons I Want My Epidural Back. Don’t forget to order it now, so you can be one of the first people to get it!