I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours...
"But I think that God's got a sick sense of humour and when I die, I expect to find him laughing"...depeche mode.
God was laughing his ass off last nite, that's for sure. All day yesterday I was feeling like crap. I was so tired...if you had propped me up against the wall, I'd have slept standing up. By evening, even my eyeballs were hurting. All I wanted to do was go to bed. Luckily, the girls went to sleep with no problems, and I jumped into bed. Couldn't sleep. As fucking usual.
(an aside: I think I know the problem. I haven't taken my blood pressure meds in nearly a week. The prescription ran out and I forgot to call for a refill. I know I know. Berate me later. I could've had a fucking stroke. My b/p as we speak is like 150/98. I'm calling the Dr. today, so shaddap)
So, around midnight, I'm just dropping off to sleep when I hear Baby D screaming. I wait a few minutes, thinking maybe she'll put herself back to sleep. Nope. I kicked off the covers, cursed God, and went in to my daughter. She was on her stomach, and couldn't turn over. I flipped her over, and her face is all wet. She puked in her sleep. So, one diaper change, one PJ change, and half a bottle later, I'm trying to get her back to sleep. No dice. She thinks its party time. I bring her into bed w/me and DH, and I'm trying to get her to sleep. I see her turn toward me in the dark, see her little eyes like marbles wide open, and then I see her big, clownish, open-mouthed grin. It's funny. Keeping mommy up is funny.
I drop her back in the crib, play her mobile for her, and pray. She falls asleep. I should have been so lucky. I stared at the ceiling for another hour or so.
As soon as the bitches nap, so am I. And I refuse to feel guilty about that. Harrumph.
Note to Lisa: "jumping the shark" is a term used for a show that is just SO over. Like when the Brady Bunch brought in "cousin oliver"? That's when they jumped the shark. That's my job, bringing new items of garbage into your vernacular. You're welcome.
NOTE TO ALL: DO NOT, under any circumstances, discuss the blog at the party this weekend, as DH DOES NOT know about said blog. And WILL NOT know about said blog...where else would I go to vent my MIL frustration?? Thank you for your cooperation.
God was laughing his ass off last nite, that's for sure. All day yesterday I was feeling like crap. I was so tired...if you had propped me up against the wall, I'd have slept standing up. By evening, even my eyeballs were hurting. All I wanted to do was go to bed. Luckily, the girls went to sleep with no problems, and I jumped into bed. Couldn't sleep. As fucking usual.
(an aside: I think I know the problem. I haven't taken my blood pressure meds in nearly a week. The prescription ran out and I forgot to call for a refill. I know I know. Berate me later. I could've had a fucking stroke. My b/p as we speak is like 150/98. I'm calling the Dr. today, so shaddap)
So, around midnight, I'm just dropping off to sleep when I hear Baby D screaming. I wait a few minutes, thinking maybe she'll put herself back to sleep. Nope. I kicked off the covers, cursed God, and went in to my daughter. She was on her stomach, and couldn't turn over. I flipped her over, and her face is all wet. She puked in her sleep. So, one diaper change, one PJ change, and half a bottle later, I'm trying to get her back to sleep. No dice. She thinks its party time. I bring her into bed w/me and DH, and I'm trying to get her to sleep. I see her turn toward me in the dark, see her little eyes like marbles wide open, and then I see her big, clownish, open-mouthed grin. It's funny. Keeping mommy up is funny.
I drop her back in the crib, play her mobile for her, and pray. She falls asleep. I should have been so lucky. I stared at the ceiling for another hour or so.
As soon as the bitches nap, so am I. And I refuse to feel guilty about that. Harrumph.
Note to Lisa: "jumping the shark" is a term used for a show that is just SO over. Like when the Brady Bunch brought in "cousin oliver"? That's when they jumped the shark. That's my job, bringing new items of garbage into your vernacular. You're welcome.
NOTE TO ALL: DO NOT, under any circumstances, discuss the blog at the party this weekend, as DH DOES NOT know about said blog. And WILL NOT know about said blog...where else would I go to vent my MIL frustration?? Thank you for your cooperation.
posted by scrappintwinmom @ 11:29 AM
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