20 April 2012

Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief

Hoo boy, I had been feeling very confident about surviving these five days without Marcel but today that just went out the window, shot to H-E-double-hockey-sticks. Now I shall be crawling, battered & bleeding across that finish line with crazy Ben attached to one leg & whiny Evan attached to the other. I hope I still get a trophy.

Let's hit the rewind button for a second (for those of you too young to have had a VCR, the rewind button was necessary to go backwards in a movie - it was terrible, you didn't miss anything) to last night. No, no, no let's go back to Tuesday night first. We - we being me, by the way, but I hate to be on the spot here - decided to test Ben's Phenergen.

Wait, I have to keep going back don't I? *sigh* Some of us just have the gift of storytelling, don't be jealous.

We are flying for our big vacation at the end of next month so we bought some Phenergren to knock Ben out on the long flight & to use for the first few nights to hopefully help iron out the jet lag situation. Yeah, I drug my kid - anyone who has done regular 14-hour flights with a little one will understand this. If you choose not to drug that is A-okay with me but you have not spent that much time in a metal tube full of judgmental people with MY SON so don't judge me either.

Anyhoo, the chemist said to be sure to test it a few times before flying because in some kids it has the opposite effect & hypes them up instead. Spoiler alert: that did not happen to us so rest easy for now. I figured I needed all the help I could get while Marcel is away, especially after Ben had a great nap at daycare on Tuesday. Perfect time to test out the meds!

It really didn't seem to do anything for him, he went to bed pretty normally without much of a fight but it took him a little while to actually sleep. Whatevs, no drama good or bad. But he talked in his sleep all night, jibber jabbering nonstop every time I woke up. Then he woke up around 4.30am ready to go for the day. I finally convinced him to go back to bed for a little while (thank you, Jesus) but by 6.00am he was good to go.

Okay, another rewind moment - Evan & I now have the bed to ourselves, which is kind of awesome in the scheme of things. It would be more awesome if he was in his own bed down the hall but that's all my fault so I'm just going to pretend this is peachy until I have the energy & brainpower to do some sleep training. So he's sleeping better in a less crowded bed because his head isn't right around my boob region where he can smell & drink milk on tap. He still is half-waking 2-3 times a night to scoot over & have a quick drink & doze off again. This is no big deal, I barely wake up normally but now that I've had a taste of having half the bed to myself, I am drunk with delight so after he has his little sips I carefully & hilariously roll out of the bed (literally) & set up the pillow fortress on that side (he has his little sleeping bag so he doesn't roll anyway) then go to the other side of the bed to sleep awesomely by myself. Eventually he worms his way over there & we repeat the song & dance until morning.

I do not recommend co-sleeping in anything less than a King bed, by the way. We have a Queen & that's just stupid. Unfortunately, a King would take up our entire room & I am too attached to our Reject Shop bedside tables. Yes, that's right there is a store called The Reject Shop here in Australia & I have bought too many things there, which probably makes me a reject.

ANYWAY, back to Ben ...

So he had another doozy of a nap at daycare yesterday & I was already dreading the night where I would no doubt be fighting with him until the late night. He asked for the medicine & I thought no, I can't give him the medicine again. Then I started stroking my evil twirly moustache & having dastardly thoughts. The chemist DID say to try it a few times & Tuesday night wasn't a good example because he was loony anyway.

So yes, I drugged him again. It did not go well. He still fought with me half the night, he still ended up asleep on his floor, I lost my temper too many times, the usual. Then the little poo-head talked in his sleep all night again. What the what??

Ooooh, PAUSE for a moment. Ben just asked me for something & I said "Sure, Sweet Potato." He replied "I not sweet potato. I Ninny." He is glorious, I tell you. GLORIOUS. He stubbornly calls himself Ninny instead of Benny & I can not wait to remind him of this on a regular basis when he's a teenager. But back to the neverending stoooooorrryyyy ....


I wish I could remember everything he said because it was full-on conversations. The only part I remember was him saying "Oma" because I thought how much Debbie (that's Pastor Eisele to you!) would love to know that but then he said "Yucky" & I laughed in my half-asleep state. To be fair, it sounded like it was "Oma, yucky" not "Oma yucky" as in he was telling her something was yucky not calling her yucky. What on earth does he dream about?

And yes, he was back up at the crack of dawn so I am very sleepy. The day was a shitstorm from there - he had a fever this morning & some tummy troubles as well but he seems okay now. Evan has had some napping issues, I have gotten very little accomplished, both boys were attached to me all day.

On the plus side, it was finally beautiful weather all day, I finally managed to sweep the house while Evan screamed in his crib & Ben was locked outside with his iPad (it's the only way it could happen for this terrible mother/housekeeper) & now we're making a cake while Evan finally naps. With blue frosting. At 5pm. I'm thinking that the fact that Ben hasn't napped today means he might still go down halfway easily even after the sugar & blue food coloring rush. I've been promising to make a cake with him for ages & wanted to do a trial run of the blue frosting for his birthday (the only thing we know about his birthday is that it requires a blue spider cake)(I'm using lots of parentheses today, aren't I?).

Ahhhh well, I don't need a life do I? Oh crap, yes I do! I had a good chat with my GP about my occasional bouts of the ole postpartum depression. She says I need a hobby & to be more selfish with my time. *sigh* Don't get me wrong, she wasn't downplaying the seriousness or anything & said to call her immediately if it seems to be more serious than just exhaustion + no life of my own = wah waaahhh. 

So now I have to find something I like to do as a hobby. Maybe I'll revisit the days of my terrible 8th grade poetry. I don't think I ever told anyone (except Joy, the prime victim reader of my poetry) that my dream in life at the time was to go to college at Trinity College in Dublin to BECOME A POET. Are there actual poets these days? Like, that's what they do for a living? How? I don't know what my whole plan was but I imagine it was all a ruse to seduce Bono.

Anyway, I seriously have no hobbies. I like to make exhaustive to-do lists & have several going at the moment. I also am a good packer & am already packing various bags for a holiday many weeks from now. I don't think those count as hobbies as such. I refuse to count my exercise as anything but ass-slimming, therefore not fun & NOT a hobby. Cooking would keep me in the house & it's impossible to be selfish with my time if I'm still juggling in the three-ring circus.

I'll keep you posted on the hobby front. And my cake is done now (kinda, the bottom might still be raw but I'm okay with just picking it apart) so if you see Ben flying past your town mid-orbit tonight after all the sugar & blue frosting, be sure to say howdy to him.

And if you're wondering where the lyric in my title is from, I invite you to visit my good friends U2:
The bizarro zumba commercial at the beginning only adds to the excellence.
Also, please note that this period in time (early 90s) is when I fell in love with Bono - leather, fly glasses, overly dyed hair, he was GLORIOUS!

No comments:

Post a Comment