My Dear John Letter

Before everybody starts freaking out about my "Dear John" letter to my husband, please know that this is not a standard Dear John letter, the term which is used to indicate a "sayonara" letter from a woman to her spouse or loved one.

Again, this is NOT that kind of Dear John letter.

I start my letters with Dear and his name is John. Enough said.

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Dear John,

The other night when we were sleeping, I was kind of fading in and out of consciousness. You may not realize it but because both of the baby monitors - the video one we use for Nico and the regular monitor we have for Shaila, are on my side of the bed, I often have trouble sleeping because I get distracted by every sound or movement.

These things drive me freaking crazy

As a result of this, I sometimes turn the volume very low on these monitors so that I can try to get some semblance of sleep. But I know that this bothers you, husband. You are always nervous that we will miss some of their cries and oh no, what will happen then?

Well, they would most likely pass out and fall asleep. No bruises. No cuts. It just happens.

But that's not good enough for you, because at the crux of all that we have been through, I now realize that it is You -YOU, husband who is the culprit preventing me from embracing any sleep too.

For you see, last night, when I was kind of in and out of consciousness, something really funny happened. Funny as in ODD, maybe not funny as in ha ha, if you know what I mean. But we have different senses of humor so for all I know you are rolling on the floor laughing right now.

Nico started crying. Yes I could hear it. NO, I did NOT catapult myself from the bed to get him because sometimes his crying stops on its own.

But YOU must have been concerned honey. Because while I pretended to sleep, I saw you get out of bed, walk over to MY side of the bed, where you casually TURNED UP the volume on Nico's monitor. And confirmed that he was in fact, crying.

Praise, Jesus.

At which point you tip-toed back to your side of the bed, got under the covers, leaned over me to look at the monitor and tapped me as if you just woke up.

"Hey Honey, it looks like Nico is crying," rubbing the sleep out of your eyes (IMPOSTOR) and pointing at the monitor.

Now I don't know what game you are playing at Husband. But I am on to you. Next time you tap me to tell me about our crying baby, I am going to go kung-fu on you so you better be ready.

Here is what is gonna go down.

1) Save yourself the trip to my side of the bed.
2) Go to our son's room.
3) Address the issue.
4) Tell me about it in the morning.

Now, you know I love you. But I don't love you the same all 24 hours of the day. You are way cuter and more endearing to me in the evening after we come home from work and even better after payday. You are like a perfect 10 those days. But at 4:30 in the morning, you are not as cute and I don't think you are sweet. You go from being Peirce Brosnan to Joe Pesci in less than 12 hours. I can't explain the phenomenon. So please, just use your judgement with these kinds of things.

You start like this

At 4:30 AM, you are more like this.

I have no problem going all kungfu on Joe Pesci so proceed with caution at that time in the morning.

Love ya John!