Wednesday, August 8, 2012

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Or as my friend Jeree would say:  "Cray- Cray; Fish Fillet!" (Yes, that phrase totally needed a semicolon.)

If you were hoping to read anything of any value or substance, I'd just stop reading now.

Last night I truly felt like I was living in a mental institution.

10:30 PM - I go to bed.

12:45 AM - My husband wakes me up, convinced that my eye pillow is a dead animal (still not sure what kind...must have been small... a squirrel perhaps?) Anywho, not important.  The important thing here is that this is not a rare occurrence in my house.  Steve sleep-walks, talks, puts lights on, looks for alligators in the closet and tries to stop the Taliban from shooting rockets out of a pickup truck in our driveway.  (You can't make this stuff up.)  We've gone to sleep clinics to check for apnea and were told it is all psychological.  Super.  Fast forward to last night, where my eye pillow is in fact a rotting carcass in our bed.  Good times.  Good times.  I finally convinced him he was dreaming by putting the eye pillow on my face.  He looks at me and says:  "Well, I guess you wouldn't' put a dead animal on your face...I must have been dreaming."  He flicks the light off, hops into bed, snuggles in, and is snoring in less than 30 seconds.  I roll over like this is completely normal and go back to sleep too.

2:00 AM - Colten wakes up screaming covered in his own pee.  I change him, strip the bed, sniff test all stuffed animals, remake bed, and get him tucked in.  I just ended that sentence with a preposition...damn.

2:30 AM - I try to fall back asleep.

4:00 AM - Cooper wakes up screaming covered in feces trying to gnaw off his own hand.  I repeat the 2:30 AM process on child number two, de-poop him, give him tylenol for teething (hoping that is the cause of the hand-eating and not a prelude to the zombie apocalypse) and proceed to try to get him to fall back asleep for the better part of an hour using the Ferber Method.

7:00 AM - Alarm goes off and child number one wakes up.  My husband turns to me and says:  "Geeze I'm tired this morning."  I respond:  "You're tired?  I live in a freaking crazy house."

8:15 AM - I am attempting to keep children distracted with television so I can write this blog post. I just made a huge POT of coffee for MYSELF.  I'm going to need it.

Buy yours here.

Peace out kiddos.  Hope you're not living in a loony bin!



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