Thursday, August 10, 2006

Exhausted

Last night I didn’t sleep too well. (Care to hazard a guess why?)

I’m not sure I’m going to hit the park.

I’m fairly certain I’ll actually go to the RTW, I’m not certain that I’ll actually run.

 

Check this out…

Last night around 2-ish my wife nudges me and says “Honey, he’s slipping, grab him”.  I reach over in a sleep induced stupor and grab for the baby.  First thing I grab is round, but not the baby.  She says “hurry, he’s slipping!”  I reach some more, feel the cat’s butt and push it away muttering something along the lines of “stupid cat, get out of here”.  I feel around some more and finally find her arms so I can follow them to where the baby is slipping from.  About the same time my eyes begin to open and adjust to the light.

I see our cat, Bagwell, trapped under my wife’s arm and pinned to her chest while he desperately tries to get away and she calls out in an increasingly panicked voice “hurry, I can’t hold him!”

Our kid is still a little furry, but he’s not that furry.

I say “honey, it’s the cat”, she says “oh”, and we’re both immediately back asleep.

She doesn’t remember that, but then again I don’t remember walking into the living room and asking something along the lines of “do you need anything” or “do you have everything under control” then immediately turning around and going back to bed without an answer.  Nor do I remember waking up while she’s changing a wet diaper off of a screaming baby and saying “you get the diaper, I’ll get the bottle” and then laying back down and immediately falling back to sleep.  Nor do I remember actually staggering all the way to the kitchen to get a bottle, warm it up, clean a nipple, and bringing it to the screaming bundle of tax deductions in my wife’s lap.

That’s pretty much how the whole dadgum night went.

Her doctor is going to discuss birth control at the next appointment.  Last time I checked a fussy baby at 12, 2, and 4 was pretty effective birth control.

You know how in Driver’s Ed they showed those movies called “Red Asphalt” or some such to deter you from driving like a maniac?  You know, the ones where they have car crashes and, of course, bloody trails on the concrete. 

In health class in middle school they should simply run a 1 hour loop of a screaming baby during class for a week or two.  If that doesn’t convince little boys to keep their power packed away and little girls to keep their knees together nothing will.  Forget this “how to use condoms” crap.  Try “changing a hungry baby while feeding him at 2:30am”.  Maybe even having the soundtrack running in the pharmacy down that aisle where teenage boys are so embarrassed to shop.  You know the one… it’s the one with the condoms AND EPT tests.

And just to chalk one up for the “mixed messages” file, I wouldn’t trade the screaming baby for anything in the world (except maybe the same baby, just not screaming).  It comes with the territory, and it’s a territory I’m glad to have claimed. 

Then again, that’s the whole reason I bought the ticket.

1 Comments:

Blogger Vic said...

I'd trade the $700/month day care bill for the screaming baby staying home the first 6 weeks any day. :)

12:23 PM  

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