I'm sick. I've been sick for days and days now. My husband has been sick, but his peak of sickness happened yesterday when he declared to me "I really don't feel good" via IM. I told him to stop acting like a baby. No, really, I did. But he was making me mad about something else, so you just have to believe me when I write that he deserved it.
So yes, we've all been sick around these parts, and it seems like Mateo is the only one who is now at the very tail end of his cold. His attitude did a complete 180 this morning, and he was acting very much the normal, goofy, cute, snuggly little boy that he so clearly is.
When my husband gets sick, he lets out these really weird noises at night. All night. All night LONG. And it drives me absolutely nuts. It's somewhere between a murmury whine and a nasally whistle. Eventually either he or I will leave the room so both of us can get some sleep.
Last night he actually laid down early (for him, late for me), and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he started making the noises. Somehow I managed to block them out, but then a bit later he got up to put a long sleeve shirt on, which woke me up.
I have to have the fan on all night, every night, 365 days a year, no matter how cold it is outside. I'm just weird that way and more weird now that I've had Mateo. My body temperature is all jacked up, and I cannot breath in our bedroom without some air circulating around. I never get cold. Well, that's not true; you find me at 6:30am on a windy SF morning, I'm usually somewhat cold, but I've yet to break out the winter jacket and probably won't for another month or so.
I knew he put the shirt on because he was cold and he'd have holy heck to pay if he turned the fan off. Believe me, he knows better now. And let's not even talk about the 2006 "the cats killed your fan" incident. I'm still mad about that one. Try finding a fan in late September - it's impossible.
He came back to bed and immediately spooned me. We don't spoon. I don't like anyone bothering me while I'm trying to sleep. So my first thought was, ugh, the spoon. Why? Why must you spoon me? But I let it go because he wasn't feeling well, and even though I don't like to spoon, I do love him, so these are the sacrifices I'll make for him.
Yes, you guessed it. Not only was I being spooned, he was making his sick noises directly in my ear.
I waited a little bit to see if maybe he would stop after he fell asleep, but he didn't. I had to be mean and tell him to get away from me. He rolled back over to his spot.
"Why would you do that and make those noises in my ear?" I asked him.
"Cold...I'm cold," he told me.
I hurmphed and went to sleep until his noises woke me up again. I gave up and moved into the living room and slept on the couch so I could get some peace and quiet. That is until Zoe decided to attack whatever invisible things she was seeing at 3am, a mere one hour before I had to get up. But that's okay! That's a-okay.
I'm just trying to convince myself. If you must know.