So last night we carbo-loaded CootieGirl. Pasta with chicken and applesauce for dinner, crumb cake for dessert. Other than getting a couple times right when I put her down she slept soundly the whole night.
COOTIEBOY, on the other hand, DID NOT.
He went down fine for the first half of the night. But when I went to move him from the bassinet to the crib he woke up and began wailing. I cuddled him for a while until he clocked my cheekbone with his skull at which point Denis took over. He finally passed out after getting a late night bottle. But then in the middle of the night he woke up again.
And somehow ended up in our bed. On my side of the bed, specifically. Leaving me only 10-12 inches of space to sleep in and not smother him.
Result? Hurting back, dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep and a LOT of crankiness.
This has been one of the … pardon my french, mom…sh!ttiest weeks of my life. I mean truly – that’s the only word I can use to describe it. Since Sunday evening my life has been absolutely rotten both at home and at work. Whether it’s wanting to quit my job in disgust or arguing with my husband over stupid crap, or losing sleep because of sleepless kids, or sitting in the Lincoln Tunnel for over half an hour because some idiot truckdriver didn’t know his truck WOULDN’T FIT and blocked the entire tunnel when his truck got wedged in – you name it, it has all built up and what I need now is a serious vacation. Alone. With no one around. No husband, no kids, no job, no house, no pets, no responsibility, no nothing.
I’d love to take a random flight to ANYwhere, book a hotel, rent a car and just be by myself for a couple days.
And no, I’m not kidding.
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