Thursday, October 4, 2012

One Pot of Coffee Was Not Enough

I feel like my brains are slowly leaking out my ears this morning.  I have a low-grade headache, probably because my shoulders and eyes are sore from computer work, or maybe because my neck seems slightly out of joint, or because I had a glass-and-a-half of wine last night (you lush!) before bed, and it was cheap, Grocery Outlet wine, so there’s no telling what’s in it.  Maybe not even grapes.


The headache is exacerbated by the fact that my kids got up at 4 am and 5:30 am.  The youngest at 4, and my dear, sweet husband got up with him to try to soothe him back to sleep.  That man is awesome for getting up when the last thing I wanted in the world was to move from my cozy cocoon of a bed, but let’s be honest here: Tony is the Jamie Whisperer.  Even when Jamie was in utero, he would instantly quiet his kicking and turning when Tony placed his hand on my belly.  Tony would be watching the kicks, the jabs, the alien-trying-to-escape distortion of my pregnant belly.  All the poor man wanted to do was get his hand kicked by the baby, but Jamie would suddenly stop moving, every single time. 


It still works to this day.  Oh, the kid cuddles me and loves on me.  If we bring him into our bed for any reason (like this morning, when he decides that he’s fully up and we try to convince him that, no, he’s not), he likes to snuggle up with me, not with Tony.  But for going-to-bed-at-bedtime purposes or waking-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-for-water purposes, there is no one who can soothe that savage 15-month-old faster than Tony.


That’s why Tony went into Jamie’s room at 4: because neither of us were ready to get up, and of the two of us, Tony has a better chance of putting Jamie back to sleep.


However, Jamie was having none of it.  I think we made it in bed with him until about 5 am, he kicking me in the back, pulling my hair, talking to me, etc.  If you live with a toddler, you know what it is like: squirm city.  And then he would pop up to a sitting position and pat my face, cooing “mama!”.  I wanted to feed him to the wolves (if we had any wolves, which we don’t, we only have a large doofus of a dog who would be totally willing to eat an intruder but who will turn his nose up at the offering of annoying toddler flesh) for being so damned cheerful so damned early.  Fortunately for me, 5 am was when Tony was going to get up anyhow (he’s crazy) (but I’m sure you knew that), so I didn’t feel terrible about asking Tony to just take Jamie downstairs and feed him breakfast.  I mean, Tony was going to eat breakfast anyway, right?


Except that then Charles woke up.  And he wanted to be in bed with me, which was fine, except that he didn’t want to go back to sleep.  And then Jamie wandered back up the stairs and got into bed with us because that’s where the party was, of course.  He and Charles shrieked and played in the pitch dark of my bed while I pleaded with them to quiet down and I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep because that ALWAYS works, right?  I don’t know why I even bother.  I should have just gotten up at 4 am for all the non sleep I got after that point.  The problem with that would have been that I was far too groggy and headache-y to function on any level at 4 am.  Least of all the level at which one prepares food.  Or coffee.  I was not getting out of bed without coffee.


I think Tony got out of the house around 6:30 am – a time at which I prefer to still be abed, but this morning at 6:30 I was finishing my cereal with yogurt and trying to find a combination of over-the-counter pain medication that would knock out the headache but not make me non-functional or barfy.  Because by that time, Spiderman was all dressed up and ready to rid the world of bad guys and Jamie was on his second or third helping of breakfast (the kid can put it away). 


Having been up for over four hours at that point, Jamie fell asleep on the way to daycare. 

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