God's Middle of the Night Comedy Show.

It's funny how pregnancy and God can mess with your head at the same time.

Lately my night time routine goes something like this:

Crawl into bed, settle in, sleep blissfully until 2am.
Wake up wide awake having to pee for the fortieth time.
Pee.
Lay back down.
Realize pregnancy induced backache isn't going away. Toss and turn trying to get comfortable.
Baby decides to plan trek across the dessert. Is thirsty.
Get up. Get drink. Decide Kool-aid is better than the water you should've had.
Lay back down.
10 minutes later still wide awake. Baby is on a sugar rush after all that Kool-aid.

Wonder to God if baby kicks and insomnia are a sign of things to come or if God is just giving me every last minute I may ever have with Little Angel.

Put that thought out of head. Try not cry. Kleenex is too far away and I finally found the latest greatest contorted position in which to fall asleep.

Pray that God gets me through these last 30 days. Wonder how I managed to make it this far. Silently say a prayer for everyone that's helped us along the way.

That's a little too emotional. Kleenex still too far away.

Try to remember if I turned the dishwasher on or not. Husband needs clean spoons for breakfast.

Ponder baby names. Remember while everyday is good there will be GREAT ones ahead.

Wonder how husband sleeps with his hands across chest, staying in the same position all night, never moving. NOT EVEN ONCE.

Apparently God has an ironic sense of humor. Who knew?

Wishes husband could be pregnant. Consider kicking him in the leg just to simulate the Charlie Horse that's currently running through mine.

Think about what I could do make our baby better.
Can't dream up one rational theory.

Ponder waking up husband to analyze ways of the world.
Remembers waking up husband will lead to someone looking forelornely into his Golden Grahams all bleary-eyed because and confused because a) There are no clean spoons
b) he doesn't do middle of the nights very well.

Decide to let husband sleep. Crabby husbands aren't worth it, no matter the circumstance. They're not coherent at 3:30am anyways.

Look at clock.
4:15.

One more hour. Thinks maybe it's just a good idea to get up. Time to clean the closet no one ever sees. The one with long lost elementary school report cards and random items that have no home.

Task seems to exhausting. Fall asleep instead.

Hear alarm. 5:15. See the start of a beautiful morning outside of my windows.

Begin the day all over again. Give thanks for what is good ask for help with what isn't.

Wash spoon before husband realizes different and hit start on the dishwasher.