I hope you know that one of the core missions of this blog is to make any readers that have kids feel wildly inferior as parents. I'm well aware that I put on a pretty impressive show.
Just so we're all clear.
Last week I was in a spiraly funk. Antepartum depression? No. Just the subconscious dread and fear and dread and anxiety and dread that comes with the joyful two months of every year that Simon works nights. I know. I need to grow up. I thought maybe this would be the month that I would turn over a freshly fallen golden with the promise of faltumn leaf and maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I just needed to suck it up, take a Unisom, and sleep like a normal human being. That's all.
Then Sunday afternoon rolled around and Simon left for his first shift of the rotation. And here is where I am tempted to type "and shift hit the fan" -- but I won't. I won't do it.
Sebastian is currently a super sick little lamb with a super sick little nose. He woke up with a very impressive dried snot mustache AND beard the other morning. I couldn't stop staring while trying to chip away at the (angry!!! wipe his nose and risk death by scream and flail) patient and didn't understand why Simon wasn't more fascinated with the multiple photos I thoughtfully took of the cement mask before I finally chiseled it off in it's glorious entirety.
Casper and Egg Yolk making peace after a fight to the almost death over a nose wipe.
I took the evening into my own capable hands and took the kids to the store in order to:
a. rectify the egg and banana shortage our kitchen was suffering
b. kill time before I could put the kids to sleep
c. kill time before I could put the kids to sleep
We got 7.6 steps out the door before Sebastian
(who walks exactly like he just dismounted a horse after an 89 day ride)
nose dove right into the walkway and gave himself a top of the nose bleed. He let the obligatory silence of "will he or won't he scream?!" pass before he screeeeeeeeamed. Julia laughed because she is a jerk and ran straight into the street for the first time ever while I surveyed the injured and decided that nose wipe sessions were going to go from "Ordinary Time fun" to "Christmas morning fun". What's that I smelled? Fresh fortuity.
The ultra urgent grocery run was mostly uneventful until I got in line to pay and grabbed the hot dogs from Julia's hand to find that she had chewed through the package. One dog in a million slobbery bits covered in bite marked plastic? No problem.
Julia was in a chatty mood and named every single human she remembers ever coming in contact with for the unenthused cashier, "basher, mommy, daddy, nana, paul, mommy, daddy, dora, diego, boots, daddy, basher, Julia" which, to an untrained ear, sounds an awful lot like, "aksajdsalksjd alksjdakljdsald alksjklajsiwejadksdj" (gibberish with a speech impediment).
We came home from the trip meant to bridge the time gap until bedtime and I pulled a smartymom and let the kids stay up until an atrocious hour ...
Moobs Jr. ignores toddler Einstein's desperate pleas, "neckwace OFFFF"
I thought guarding and protect my cowardly heart from intruders would result in good nights of sleep for the shorts but my plan backfired in every single way possible at 1am (Sebastian), 2am (Sebastian's altar ego "thrasher" and Julia), 3am (just Julia), 3:43am (Julia and her emergent need for a Band-Aid), and for the day at 5:10 in the am (cock-a-smile Sebastian).
Aaaaaaaaaand why oh why on God's greenest earth I ever let the idea of this month consume my entire being is completely beyond me because seriously? so far - so very good.
Just so we're all clear.
Last week I was in a spiraly funk. Antepartum depression? No. Just the subconscious dread and fear and dread and anxiety and dread that comes with the joyful two months of every year that Simon works nights. I know. I need to grow up. I thought maybe this would be the month that I would turn over a freshly fallen golden with the promise of faltumn leaf and maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I just needed to suck it up, take a Unisom, and sleep like a normal human being. That's all.
Then Sunday afternoon rolled around and Simon left for his first shift of the rotation. And here is where I am tempted to type "and shift hit the fan" -- but I won't. I won't do it.
Sebastian is currently a super sick little lamb with a super sick little nose. He woke up with a very impressive dried snot mustache AND beard the other morning. I couldn't stop staring while trying to chip away at the (angry!!! wipe his nose and risk death by scream and flail) patient and didn't understand why Simon wasn't more fascinated with the multiple photos I thoughtfully took of the cement mask before I finally chiseled it off in it's glorious entirety.
I took the evening into my own capable hands and took the kids to the store in order to:
a. rectify the egg and banana shortage our kitchen was suffering
b. kill time before I could put the kids to sleep
c. kill time before I could put the kids to sleep
We got 7.6 steps out the door before Sebastian
nose dove right into the walkway and gave himself a top of the nose bleed. He let the obligatory silence of "will he or won't he scream?!" pass before he screeeeeeeeamed. Julia laughed because she is a jerk and ran straight into the street for the first time ever while I surveyed the injured and decided that nose wipe sessions were going to go from "Ordinary Time fun" to "Christmas morning fun". What's that I smelled? Fresh fortuity.
The ultra urgent grocery run was mostly uneventful until I got in line to pay and grabbed the hot dogs from Julia's hand to find that she had chewed through the package. One dog in a million slobbery bits covered in bite marked plastic? No problem.
Julia was in a chatty mood and named every single human she remembers ever coming in contact with for the unenthused cashier, "basher, mommy, daddy, nana, paul, mommy, daddy, dora, diego, boots, daddy, basher, Julia" which, to an untrained ear, sounds an awful lot like, "aksajdsalksjd alksjdakljdsald alksjklajsiwejadksdj" (gibberish with a speech impediment).
We came home from the trip meant to bridge the time gap until bedtime and I pulled a smartymom and let the kids stay up until an atrocious hour ...
I thought guarding and protect my cowardly heart from intruders would result in good nights of sleep for the shorts but my plan backfired in every single way possible at 1am (Sebastian), 2am (Sebastian's altar ego "thrasher" and Julia), 3am (just Julia), 3:43am (Julia and her emergent need for a Band-Aid), and for the day at 5:10 in the am (cock-a-smile Sebastian).
Aaaaaaaaaand why oh why on God's greenest earth I ever let the idea of this month consume my entire being is completely beyond me because seriously? so far - so very good.
Ummmmm cannot stop laughing at Julia and the hotdogs. Davy just walked over and looked at me like I was some kind of sicko. "Are you laughing at that kid on the computer??" Annnd I think that beats my girls stealing some lighters and opening candy in the checkout. Yay for hotdog juice scented children and getting the hellodolly out of there for a hellacious night's sleep. It's the little things. Wishing you a family size nap that you can sneak out of for coffee or candy.
ReplyDeleteJulia laughed because she is a jerk...
ReplyDeletedidn't think it would get any funnier than that. Until Julia's Litany of Known People was recited. Then I was crying. Lotus is behind me, asking, "What's so funny? That blog? Who's that? Are you still laughing?"
The hot dog thing, man. Why do they do that? Mine does it with cheese. I always end up opening something(s) and feeding her out of the bag. The best was when she ate an entire roll + half a fruit leather, left teeth marks on two pears and drank half a smoothie, and we were in the store for 20 min tops. Also she throws things out of the cart when I'm not looking.
ReplyDeleteIt still beats when she was totally little, I couldn't set foot in a supermarket without her screaming hysterically until we left. I think it was the lighting.
And she doesn't even like cheese! Unless it's vacuumized in plastic apparently.
Deleteoh man i giggled a TON over basher's post-horse-riding walk.
ReplyDeleteOohh this cracked me up - but do I feel for you! Two months of nights per year?! I will try to be happy with our one... Sending good thoughts your way for the month!
ReplyDeleteI'll just tell you I'm praying you survive the night shifts. And leave it at that.
ReplyDeleteThis post is absolutely hilarious! I clicked onto it just as I was mentally planning my "time killing" trip to the store today and originally thought I'd just mention that. Then you said "moobs" and "neckwace offff" and gave a summary of your night and I don't know what else to say except the whole thing is brilliant. The picture of Sebastian smiling while Julia is stuck in the bag is priceless! Oh, and I think my son's frequent recitation of everyone he knows sounds exactly like Julia's if you were to swap out a few names. But not Dora, Boots and Diego. Those would have to stay. And add Chinta (I know you know who I'm talking about. And if you don't, then I'd be kindareally embarrassed).
ReplyDeleteI literally burst out laughing when I read about Sebastian walking like he'd been riding a horse for 89 days!!!!
ReplyDeleteI feel bad for laughing, but really that is all there is to do at this post. Julia laughed because she is a jerk... I can just picture it. And Sebastian does kind of look like he just got off a horse. Oh geez...
ReplyDeleteI got super grumpy when Phil was glued to the lab for a week. I can't imagine a whole month. Although I should probably start imagining it because Phil is now in a mad dash to finish his PhD before the end of the year (preferably Thanksgiving).
"because she is a jerk" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
ReplyDeleteWhen Rob was in residency, my neighbors probably thought I was dealing crack out of my house because I stayed up until ridic hours and left every single light on for the entire night. I learned how to sleep with the house as bright as midday just so I could say, "suck it, intruders, I'm going to light up your every move." It's hard and no one who hasn't had their helpmate gone at all hours can really get it. The hyper-vigilance is exhausting.
ReplyDeleteAnd let's not even talk about the times when he would come home and fall asleep while I was describing our day in excruciating detail. Or how I would angrily wake him up and tell him to get off the couch because I didn't want to see him sleeping (I was super mature!). Or the time he sat straight up in bed, grabbed me, and said, "What does the EKG show?!?!"
Now that he is a residency director, I'm sure that Rob's experience with me during his own residency has directly led to his compulsive thanking of all the families at his residents' graduation ceremony. I'm here to serve.
Oh you poor thing!!!
ReplyDeleteNights sucks. It's true.
If you want you can send the Julia in a bag up here for my entertainment. I'll take her off your hands so you have only one little kiddo to chase. :o)
HILARIOUS! Thank you for sharing! Sleep begets sleep- letting them stay up late never pays off. Freaky toddler math.
ReplyDeleteYou should have someone come stay with you while Simon is on nights- truly turn it into a Camp Patton! Good luck completing on the rest of the time!
my top favorite (of many) parts of this post is julia's hella-tight saltwater tan lines. i have a strange love of seeing sandal tan lines on my own feet, so i'm totes jelly.
ReplyDeleteI am rolling! Rolling! I just snorted so loudly at Julia's convo with the cashier that I literally scared the poop out of Ellee who was up to that point nursing contently. Bless you Grace, for going through hell so that we can all get a good laugh, haha!
ReplyDeleteOn the bright side, when the littles are grown maybe you can just publish this all into a book and make a mint?
Wow!!
ReplyDeleteAngie @ http://hayshousemisadventures.blogspot.com/2012/09/hero-worship.html
And TOTALLY love that song, btw.
DeleteI'm way impressed-especially since you are able to pull off that mustard T-shirt so fab. I bought it last week and promptly took it back after one glance in the mirror. Totes jealous it looks so good on you! I'll be praying for you all during your night shifts...mine is coming in a few weeks :) High five for the "single moms" of the residency years
ReplyDeleteTwo months of nights!! Far out that sucks!
ReplyDeleteAlso, I think this was some of your best work yet! 'Julia laughed because she is a jerk' tehehehehe, made me lol.
I can never sleep when Matthew leaves for work...the last 3 month stretch he was away,I got 4 hours a night and kept hearing things at night- and I've stopped apologizing to the cashiers. I just hand over the crushed boxes and empty wrappers and feel pleased that lunch is out of the way.
ReplyDeleteDid you secretly wish the jerk would walk into that pole in the basement when the bag was over her being?
ReplyDeleteJoseph learned his second word: NO (1st word is Dada). He likes to use this new word when we try to get him to say 'mama', "NO" he responds with an ulraserious face. Last night he put a finger up as he said "NO". Kids are jerks.
Hang in there lady! Are you starting a list of "Ways to make these 2 mo up to Grace" for Simon yet?
Oh, my. . .I relate to this in a thousand bad ways. The unfortunate (ironic?) ending to my own residency night-shift horror saga is that my husband chose a fellowship replete with night-shift duties and a specialization where 1/3 of his shifts are nights. It's the good life. . .or something. ;-) One weird thing is that for all of my pregnancy-induced late night, dazed and confused vigils held during strings of night shifts, I actually felt more secure and less vulnerable when I finally had that newborn in my arms. It was like I reasoned to myself: "Nobody in their right mind would ever break in and slash up my home and family, when there's a newborn in the house. . .they'd take one look at this little, wide-awake, staring at me with crazy big pupil eyes, generally attached to my person, and fiercely opinionated 6 week old and run for it!" Of course, I was holding vigil during those times for reasons less related to night shifts, so it's all a little fuzzy. Anywho. . .I get this.
ReplyDeletewhat!??!?!!?! what kind of specialist is he?
DeleteYou're an earthly saint.
Peds Emergency. 3 year residency. 1 year chief. 3 years fellowship. We're 2 years into that "light at the end of the tunnel" now, and night shifts are still no bueno. Thank you for the commiseration. . .but, I can assure you whole heartedly, with wailing and gnashing of teeth, that my ongoing litany of complaints in the night shift department have earned me not even one second out of purgatory. ;-)
DeletePlease tell me those are sandal tan lines on Julia's feet. That just makes that whole picture PERFECTION!
ReplyDeleteHaha this is so funny! I hope things get better. I can't imagine having two little ones and no help!
ReplyDeleteAmy
itwasloveat.blogspot.com
I HAAAAAAAATE night float. That is all. Praying for your survival.
ReplyDeleteIt can only get better right? I'm sure that this was the absolute worst night ever and every night from hence forth will be Unisom comercial worthy. Maybe you can take some joy in knowing all of us with snoring husbands within elbow distance find your posts hilarious? Great artists need to suffer for their art as do saints on the way to heaven. You are in good company.
ReplyDeletePrayers for you mama Sisyphus.
See? And I look at Julia's problem in that last pic and think, that is why I don't wear necklaces. Too much in the way! Hoping the night shift month passes quickly for you!
ReplyDeleteGoodness, I love a blog post that I can giggle all the way through. So sorry to hear that the little man is under the weather. Hope everyone makes a speedy recovery!
ReplyDeleteCallie
www.coffeeandcardigans.com
That last picture is my favorite one EVER.
ReplyDeleteHow is it that kids always stay up the latest on days when you most desperately have been looking forward to bedtime? It's like magic!
ReplyDeleteI read this post this morning and have laughed out loud thinking about that last picture so many times today...so so so funny.
ReplyDeleteThough I can't imagine how UNfunny Simon's night shifts must be for you, I wish I could come over and discreetly slip you some prenatal contraband bubbly.
You need to write a book. Good thing you blog so much or I think I'd get anxiety! You're so dang funny. I could read your stuff allll day lonnngggg
ReplyDeleteConfession: I read every blog post but I rarely comment because they would all look like this: lol! You are so funny!
ReplyDeleteAaanyways, my oldest kiddo is staring at the screen asking me what is so funny and my littlest kiddo is gazing up at me with absolute adoration because I'm laughing. thanks for that.