Velma...my sleepless friend.

Everyone *says* that the lack of sleep afforded to pregnant women is in preparation for the upcoming big arrival. While this might secretly be one of the more genius operations of my body, I sort of doubt it. I mean, there are lots of unfortunate things my body doesn't practice for, such as:
1. Falling down the stairs. I'm a natural; I can do this without any preparation.
2. Having a headache. I don't go and seek one out, usually one just comes to me.
3. Rupturing my spleen. I haven't done it yet, but I bet I can do it without practicing.

So, why does my body insist on waking me in the middle of the night and leaving me to my own devices? I think my body is simply trying to up my productivity level. My summer schedule doesn’t leave near enough time for me to catch up on celebrity news, color code my book collection, learn to crochet granny squares, stalk babycenter, post on facebook, and watch Project Runway Reruns. Wait, yes it does.

She's just that happy...

Fine, my body is just a jerk-a jerk who takes pleasure in stealing my last fleeting days of gloriously uninterrupted sleep.
I believe my cat, Velma, would also agree. She begrudgingly accompanies me from my bed to the couch and curls up to sleep (almost as a sort of demonstration. “Look, lady. See how easy this is? Put down the remote and sleep!”).
Muhahaha, we’ll see how peaceful Velma’s sleep is with a crying baby. What she doesn’t know is that my husband and I have elected her to complete late night feedings.