Monday, May 14, 2007

The Aftermath-Back to Reality

Mother's Day was bliss. T.D. awoke at 6 a.m. but I just grabbed my sleepmask and snuggled deeper into the blankets. When I awoke hours later it was to a fresh, hot latte, flowers, new books, and eggs benedict. I read the entire Sunday Post. It was pure heaven. The whole day was like this. Not cleaning, no cooking, reading and relaxing with family and friends. It was heaven. As we settled in to watch an image searing movie, T.D. tucked into bed, I thank H for such a perfect day. It really was.

12:07 a.m.- Reality check- T.D. wakes up crying. No screaming. Shreiks to wake Ramses the Dead. I stumble into her room and place her back down with her blanket.
Silence. I have been asleep maybe 45 minutes as that aforementioned image searing film has plagued my thoughts all night causing me to toss and turn and twist the sheets.

12:35 a.m.- More crying. I held her for a while and tucked her back in. H mentioned giving her the dreaded pacifier and I balked. No way! (while I have been giving it to her again in the morning as a way to get a few hours of work in before she officially starts her day it is for no other time. I am weak. I know.)

1:17 a.m.- What fresh hell is this?! The cries coming from across the hall are witching! I change T.D.'s diaper and hold her close, falling asleep. Tuck her back in with her precious blanky and stumble back to bed. Thank God I didn't take a Sonata tonight!

2:03 a.m.- I am insane. I hate that beast that is dwelling in a wood slatted cage across the hall. Nothing soothes it. H fetches cup of milk. T.D. wails on. Throws her blankets. A generally pissy attitude is held by the czar. High pitched evil laughter erupts from her periodically amidst the wails.

2:17 a.m.- Back up. I plug that little hole with a pacifier. I quietly yet firmly whisper/hiss to her that if she throws that blanket out of the crib one more time she will never see it again. I am inches from her face. She laughs right in it as if to say, "Silly subject, you have no say." Dragging my tired ass back into the bedroom H asks, "Did that reasoning work with her?" Guess I was louder than hissing.

2:55 a.m.- More shrill shrieks and wails. Tylenol is administered. More bottle drinking. I take her to bed with us. H agrees this just might be the golden ticket. Dictators do NOT share bed space. She thrashes about slapping me in the face, kicking both of us in the groin areas multiple times and generally laughing and poking our eyes out.

3:13 a.m.- I have placed her back in the crib. I tell her no one is coming for her EVER. Ok, not ever. But, not until daybreak so she might as well get comfy. I am hating the fact that I had such a perfect Mother's Day. This just kills me. It's like payback, a real slap of reality just in case I thought life could really be that calm and peaceful for more than twelve hours.

7:10 a.m.- wake up. So freakin' tired my legs ache. My brain is stuffed with cotton and the dark circles under my eyes are not from leaving my mascara on. I crave sleep but guess what. It's T.D.'s breakfast hour and like Cinderella I must begin my day's toil.

1 comment:

  1. I was truly rolling. I only wish my night last night wasn't as bad as this, but indeed it was. Now he sleep blissfully while I try to recover brain cells with coffee.


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