Sleep

if only

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately for a number of reasons: migraines, ligament pain, the occasional sick child, or–in the case of two nights ago–laying in bed listening to Paul snore for almost an hour before he woke up to tell me, “Uuuuugh…I can’t sleep.  I’ve been wide awake for the past two hours.  I haven’t slept at all.”

I have never had trouble sleeping.  Ever.  In high school a girl drew a caricature of our Spanish class, and in it my head was on the desk, asleep.  Airplanes?  Please.  That constant white noise puts me out before we take off.  And if I can fully recline or lay down, I don’t even need to really feel tired.

Then I had a traumatic brain injury and the doctor told me that I needed MORE sleep.  I was like, SURE! In grad school I was known for taking hour+ naps on a disgusting couch in the student lounge–middle of the afternoon, bright lights, people yapping away right next to my head.  Out.

Sleep is my thing.

But apparently not now.  I guess insomnia is common during pregnancy, though I don’t remember having it this bad before.  And it sucks.

Anyway, this has resulted in me a.) being cranky, b.) investing in a new pregnancy pillow, and c.) spending a lot of time on the couch drinking tea, reading books, and writing blog posts at 3am.  Like right now.

The good news is that about a mile from our house is a Goodwill that is dedicated almost exclusively books.

Goldmine.

It’s a total crapshoot, as most used bookstores are, but all of the paperbacks are $1.99 with an occasional 99 cent-er thrown in.

They also have two “leather” chairs that have been on sale for over a year, so I take the kids there and let them pick out new kids books and then sit them in the chairs to read them while I peruse the stacks.  Because then it doesn’t matter when Mora takes a pen to “help write” the book and Eddie rips out all the pages, it’s not going to cost me more than $3 total.  Hours of fun.

It is basically my favorite place.

Because there is no rhyme or reason as to what will be on the shelves, it’s kind of forced me out of my comfort zone.  I’ve started choosing books based on the author, a review on the back by someone I respect, or Pulitzer Prize/Booker Award/whatever winner little sticker on the front.

most recent haul

Paul thinks it’s absurd that I am getting more books.  He constantly asks me what we are going to do with “all these books” when we move.  He does not understand.

He does not understand how bookstores provide me with a sense of calm.  He does not understand how rare it is to find a public space that provides both entertainment for me and two toddlers simultaneously.  Most importantly, he does not understand the important role these books are playing in our lives at this moment.  $8 is a low price to pay for snoring in peace.