Wednesday, May 24

Out to Get Me

When I lived in Seattle, I was addicted to this cable access show called Kurt Cobain Was Murdered. I was hooked on the way the guy would say, "The WIDOW Cobain." It was all conspiracy, conspiracy, conspiracy.

I'm not really a conspiracy kind of person. At least... I wasn't. Now, well, now I see conspiracies everywhere. Especially in my house. At the foot of the bed. In the Pack N Play. That child. And her older brother. They. Are. Trying. To. Kill. Me.

Normally nights are rough. Sweetie cries. Doodles tosses and turns. I deal with Pie, Adam takes care of Doodles. Adam had to go to California for work. So I was alone. With the two little devils masquerading as my children.

On Monday night, I put Sweetie down for bed. And she cried. And screamed. And wailed. I put Doodles's food on his plate. And ran upstairs to stroke Sweetie. And then ran back downstairs to get his water. And then ran upstairs to walk Sweetie. I ran to start Doodles's bath. Then ran up to sing Sweetie a song. She. Cried. For. Over. One. Hour.

Finally, she's asleep. Doodles has had his bath, his teeth were brushed, his three books read, his two songs sung, and his prayers said. He's asleep. She's asleep. I had a ton of work to do so I worked until I couldn't see the page anymore (which admittedly wasn't long) and went to sleep. Until 12:30. When I heard, "Mommmmmmyyyyyyy! I want my mommmmmyyyy!" I plod into Doodles's room, where he's sitting in bed, finger in mouth, clutching one of his three Georges. "I want to sleep in your room," he tells me. Which is all I need with Pie in the Pack N Play and no bed rails on my bed. So I tell him no and he says, "Mommy sleep in here." So I lay down with him for the twenty minutes it took for me to ensure he was completely asleep.

So I slipped back into my room. Where at exactly 2:35, little missy started her wailing. One twenty-minute breastfeed later, and she's back asleep. Until 3:30. Another twenty-minute breastfeed. But at least I'm done for the night. Well, until 4:30 when I hear, "Mommmmmmyyyy! Mommmmmyyy! I need my mommmmmyyyy!" So back into Doodles's room. Where I gave in this time and crawled into his bed to sleep. Except that sleeping with Doodles in his twin bed really isn't sleeping. And he was up. At 5:30. For the day. Luckily I convinced him to let me lie there until almost 6.

I am so tired my eyeballs hurt.

And where is Adam now? At the Red Sox game.

Conspiracies. I believe.

1 Comments:

Blogger Fran Loosen said...

I always think it's wild that my son knows who to call for in the middle of the night...it's always the person who put him to bed. Isn't that wierd? No matter what, somehow he remembers.

I just had baby #2 and am not relishing the idea of being alone with both of them at night either as we split the job now. Oy.

9:38 AM  

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