Repose

LB is sick which means she isn't sleeping through the night. Which means I am not sleeping through the night. This was doable as a co-ed. As a parent, it BLOWS. Yesterday morning I loaded up my toothbrush with face soap. Normally this would be a "that sucks, need more sleep" type if thing. I'd wash off my toothbrush and start over. Which was what I did. Except it sucks extra-hardcore since I now have to traverse to New Friggen York City to buy may face soap, a face soap sold in drugstores ... Damn you Connecticut! And damn you Bubbles too! How dare you introduce me to an awesome drugstore type of face soap that is reasonably priced and works wicked well on my overly-acne-prone skin. That's right. Get me good and hooked on a totally normal mainstream product and then BAM quit selling it in my state. SERENITY NOW! Oops, I digress.

So, sick kid, not sleeping through the night for four birthcontrol-inducing nights, doctor's appointment, diagnosis: respiratory virus and ear infection, prescription: amoxicillin and "taking it easy for a day or two." Which brings me to my point ...

Taking it easy, baby style:
Go to bed at 7:00 p.m. Cuddle down in soft footy pajamas, with soothing sound of vaporizer gurgling like a creek in the background and the refreshing, snot-clearing smell of menthol wafting through the air.

Taking it easy, parent style:
After putting baby to sleep, grab glass of wine and collapse on couch. Realize shirt stuck to upper chest with baby's mucous. Shrug and drink some wine. Ponder getting your knitting out from way WAY far across room. Realize that if you are going to get up to get knitting, you might as well go wash dinner dishes and bottles and get that chore over with. Go wash dishes. Break ridonculously expensive glass baby bottle in sink. Cut finger. Drop the F bomb. Thrice. Decide knitting and wine was way to go. Finish dishes. How is it 9:45 p.m. already? Decide to check e-mail. Computer sucks you in ... Holy crap, it's 11:30 p.m. Decide to go to bed having not knit or finished wine. Forgo any real nightly hygiene ritual (hell, face soap is at a premium anyway) and instead fall into bed with mucous matted shirt. Fall asleep at midnight.

Taking it easy, baby style:
Wake up screaming at 12:10 a.m. Feel crappy and want to spread the crap.

Taking it easy, parent style:
Jerked awake after just falling asleep. Realize this is going to be a LONG night.

Taking it easy, baby style:
After being changed, fed, and rocked, scream and cry. Keep screaming and crying. Scream and cry self hoarse. May be because miserable. May be because mom's singing voice sucks and needs to be drowned out. May be soothing creek and refreshing menthol are now annoying. May be just nighttime fun. Fall asleep cradled in arms of mom. Scream when she approaches crib as if crib is the root of all evil and HATE HATE HATE. Mental telepathy to Mama: Taking it easy means you carry me Clown! Rinse and repeat until so tired can not muster screaming or crying anymore. Snuggle into crib like there was never any hate.

Taking it easy, parent style:
Deal with sick and screaming baby. Vow never to have sex again. Hours become blur. Hips sore from walking laps with twenty pounds of baby. Realize baby is asleep for real. Dump her in crib and weave down hall into own bed. Fall face first onto cat who has taken your spot. Drift asleep with mouth full of cat fur.

Taking it easy, baby style:
Wake up at 7:00 a.m. chipper and bright. Coo and giggle.

Taking it easy, parent style:
Hear baby waking. Start mental chant, "ten more minutes, ten more minutes." Hope it works like Good Parking Karma chant.

Taking it easy, baby style:
Realize the Clown is not coming after two minutes of cooing and start to scream.

Taking it easy, parent style:
Damn you Karma!

Taking it easy, baby style:
Get changed, fed, and fluffed into new pair of clean, sweet smelling, soft footie jammies. Roll on bed and chase cat. Pluck cat fur. Wonder why dog stays three feet away at all times. Rub eyes and yawn in subtle sign that naptime is immanent. Gently carried to crib where screaming commences. Want Clown to know would rather be playing. Fall asleep after two minutes of screaming since point was made. Take nap.

Taking it easy, parent style:
Put baby down for nap. Decide to nap too, being last night was rough. But first, check e-mail and FaceBook. As approaching computer, decide to put load of laundry in first. Sort, dump, and set washer. Realize stuff is in the dryer. Hit "touch up." Add another ten minutes to the twenty given for touch up. Should be able to check e-mail and FaceBook in thirty minutes. Go to computer. Forgot coffee. While pouring coffee, decide to start cooking sweet potatoes for baby food while on computer. Ponder this Betty Crocker turn and shake head in mystification. Scrub and nuke potatoes. Return to computer, with coffee, while potatoes nuking, open browser, hear baby start to fuss. Turn volume down on monitor as if this might make baby stop fussing. Holy crap! It works! Return to keyboard. Potatoes done nuking. Get up to take them out of microwave as dryer buzzes. Fold clothes. Put in next load as baby starts to wake up and demands cuddles. Realize opportunity to nap has gone the way of the dinosaur.

I could go on, but really, you get my point. Only one of us is taking it easy. That same one is also cracking the whip for the Clown.