Real Women Don't Need Sleep

The baby slept through the night last night. Seven full hours, 1:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m. Even better, the toddler (who managed to put off actually falling asleep for three hours after being put to bed) slept in. So, even though I woke up at 5:00 a.m. and slept like a paranoid bunny in wolf country for the next three hours (I will not check on her, I will not check on her, is that a cry? please don't be a cry) I actually can say I got a full night's sleep last night! Close enough at any rate.

The husband was watching some new reality show on TLC the other night, called Spymaster. At one point, the participants were being woken at some terribly early hour to go do reality show type stuff. I wasn't paying much attention until I heard the narrator announce, in hushed and horrified tones, that "... they've only had four hours of sleep!"

Whereupon I broke into manic, sleep-deprived laughter, which really annoyed the husband who did not appreciate my not taking the show seriously.

"They had four whole hours of unbroken sleep? What are they complaining about?" I asked him. "Let's see them getting four hours a night for months on end. There's something to complain about! Better yet, let's see them sleeping four hours and waking up two or three times every night!"

The husband pretended he didn't hear me.

Buncha wimps. Pbbtttt.