Dave, on the other hand, is a fantastic sleeper. Not only does he go to bed early-between 9-10, but you can also find him snoozing on the couch before bedtime. It's amazing to me how well and much he sleeps. I consider it one of the benefits of our marriage that we now go to bed earlier than midnight. Now I get more sleep and that can't hurt. (sidenote, Dave does get up at 5 for the gym daily. I sometimes accommodate him but no longer regularly)
So on Wednesday around 11, I felt tired. So tired. Tired in a way that I wanted to cry. I ached to be in comfy clothes and horizontal. I tried to kick that desire but I couldn't. I cancelled my Wednesday night plans, came home, got in my comfy clothes and laid on the couch hardly keeping my eyes open for CSI.
Dave came home and laughed at me. He would leave the room, then poke his head back in and giggle some more. I don't know what happened to me (I blame the baby) but I was the tiredest girl on earth. Dave and I were in bed by 8:04pm and, get this, Dave was asleep before me! But I was close behind. I was zonked.