My husband literally saves lives at his job. He’s an RN at an assisted living facility, and the other day he had to give someone the Heimlich. This was not his first Heimlich rodeo.
I, on the other hand, sit in front of a computer all day and spend quite a lot of time conducting “research” on social media while dreaming up snappy things to say about cloud-based technology, product development, luxury real estate, estate planning, etc. It’s a bizarre job. Like Mad Men, except maybe not quite so glamorous, in that I’m at home, in sweats, with no makeup on, and never talk to anyone except through this glowing box.
Nurses do not get paid enough. It’s not right. I’m not saying this because I wish my husband made more money. We do fine. But why does someone who literally saves lives get paid less per-hour than someone who writes for the internet?
This is a messed up world.
While we’re comparing, I also complain a lot more than Jon does. Especially about being tired. Being tired isn’t just a condition for me; it’s a syndrome. Pre-kids, I woke up at roughly 10am every day. Yes, I knew that having twins would eff with that. Yes, I was willing and prepared. But, it is still really hard to get up 5-6 hours earlier than my natural biorhythms demand. And no, I don’t go to bed earlier. I try. It doesn’t work for me.
Let’s have a little Q&A about that.
Did you know you can rewire your circadian rhythms?
Nope.
Well, you can!
Oh I meant nope, as in, that is BS. Next subject.
Maybe if you got up an hour earlier you could squeeze in some exercise every day?
Oh do you mean like at 3:45 am? I’ll get right on that.
Anyway. Every once in a while I hit an absolute wall with the sleep-deprivation and start acting out like a toddler, which makes it hard to care for actual toddlers, and Jon decides it’s time to take emergency measures for me to get some sleep. This week, for example, he has been insisting that I stop scrolling mindlessly through Instagram while lying in bed at 10pm and turn the lights off and at least try to sleep.
(This reminds me of something my mom used to say to me when I was little and would insist I wasn’t tired enough to sleep: “Well just lie there with your eyes closed. It counts.” At the time I thought she knew more about biology than me, but now, a mom myself, I realize she was just trying to get me to be quiet so she herself could sleep. I get it, and plan to use that tactic liberally when the time comes.)
Jon also has gotten up with the girls every day this week so far, which is magical, except that, of course, they have mysteriously slept until almost 7am every morning that he has been on duty, while I have woken up pre-6, panicking because they’re not making noise.
Still.
My husband saves lives pretty regularly, including mine.
