DH made a funny

Last night was one of those nights. You know, the ones that seem to last forever until you realize with horror at 3:30am that nobody in the house has gotten more than 2 hours sleep because the young child has been calling out in regular intervals during the night for various needs. "I need my water!" "I'm cold!" "I need my Mommy!" "Can you lie down with me?" "Can I lie down with you?" "I need to rock a minute!" Jacob has a cold, and has been battling it for a while now. Last night the battle raged, with him snorting and sneezing, trying to breathe through his nose and snoring, him just generally feeling miserable and not being able to sleep. And when baby doesn't sleep, nobody sleeps. One of the other perks of this reality is that my son will have nothing to do with my husband when he is in this state, and every time DH got up to help the child,I would hear, "NOOOOO! GO AWAAAAY! I NEED MY MOMMY!" DH really loves such a reception from his only child. Finally, I broke out the drugs. I gave Jacob something to clear his nose and knock him out, then rocked him for a half an hour or so until he fell into a deep sleep. Rocking a sick child in the middle of the night can be actually quite peaceful, if the child is snuggling and isn't seriously ill, which was the case last night. And of course, my son is particularly angelic looking when he's asleep. The moment made up for all the rotten ones preceding it. After finally putting the child down, I stumbled back into my own bed. "I'm sorry", DH mumbled. "You must be exhausted." Still feeling a happy mother glow from rocking my way cute kid, I said, "Well, you know, it's all part of the deal." And then DH said something that made me laugh and laugh and laugh. (The excessive laughter probably came from the sleep deprivation, but I still think it's kind of funny.) Ever the lawyer, he said, "Well, I think we should renegotiate." Funny, but an interesting thought, too. I mean, what would the ideal mothering contract look like? I would definitely add more sleep, less mess, and more snuggle time. I would also like to put in a "no work before 8am please" clause, because really, who needs the curse of having an early riser? Been there, done that, thanks. I would add more vacation time, without the child. I would also like some sick days when I am too sick to move, and yet I have a 3 year old jumping on my bed screaming, "I'm Buzz Lightyear, to the rescue!" and hurling himself into space and onto my ailing body. Any other thoughts on the perfect mothering deal? And now, I gotta go and tend to my little boy, who is currently wavering between wakefulness and sleep, snuggled in my bed. Maybe I should give him some more drugs before he wakes up. You know what they say--better living through pharmacology! (That last part is a joke. Please don't call Child Protection Services on me. I swear I don't just randomly administer drugs to my child just to knock him out and give me a break--very often.)


Blogger Kim Siever said...

The job has to come with fridge always stocked with fried chicken.

4/01/2005 02:42:00 PM  
Blogger TftCarrie said...

I think for all of our sacrafices we should at least be able to keep the "breast-feeding" boobs (this is coming from a small breasted woman. More well-endowed women might disagree).

4/01/2005 06:45:00 PM  
Blogger Heather O. said...

Oooh--I'd totally be on board for the breast-feeding boobs. What an awful trick that they get so big (Hey, I finally need a bra!), and then after you wean, they are smaller than you started with! So sad.

Kim--Why stop at fried chicken? I think the job should come with a fridge fully stocked with good stuff 24/7!

4/01/2005 07:47:00 PM  
Blogger Kaimi said...

Your husbands probably agree. I don't know -- I can ask them if I'm ever on a panel with them.

(And I'll note, from the guy's perspective, that one of the great ironies of life is that the week that milk comes in -- which is the week that a woman's boobs look as good as they're ever going to get -- is also the time when they're too sensitive to be touching. Who thought up that idea?)

4/01/2005 09:24:00 PM  
Blogger Heather O. said...


It's just yet another one of the sad cruel ironies that accomapany the whole pregnant, birthing, mothering process. And I'm sure Mardell has plenty to say on this topic.

4/01/2005 10:21:00 PM  
Blogger TftCarrie said...


And here I thought I was being so anonymous by using only my last initial!

4/01/2005 11:47:00 PM  
Blogger Kaimi said...

Well, I sorta suspected that it might be you, given the name and initial. Clicking on your name showed that you're a fashion designer in Astoria, and that confirmed it.

4/02/2005 01:22:00 PM  
Blogger annegb said...

Heather, I had 5 kids (probably some are older than you now)and I'm totally down with the drugs. I completely understand.

You know, on a related note, I have had four of my grandchildren for the weekend. They are 10, 6, 4, and almost one. They are darling. Yesterday, we went for pictures. I had one adult to each child, plus one. Everyone kept asking me to help them (their mom wasn't there, my stepson is divorced). I almost laughed out loud when they would ask me to get them something, like a tissue, or where's the shoe?

Then this morning, my son came over to bring one child home and get another. He was sitting holding the baby, I was cleaning up from breakfast and bathing and dressing the kids and he says, "Mom, will you get me a kleenex, her nose is runny." I looked at him and thought, "what is the matter with your legs?" My daughter will bathe the baby, and I have to bring the toys, soap, and towel. Then I bring powder and lotion and clothes. Then I clean up after her.

My husband is the same way. It's like they don't know where that stuff is. The kleenex box was on the counter 5 feet away from my son.

When my husband cooks, I have to walk him through the recipe and finding the pans. I might as well do it myself.

If I was rich, I would have two nannies for each kid, a cook, and ten maids. and I bet I would still run my legs off.

4/02/2005 04:08:00 PM  
Blogger Amy Lynn said...

I'd be content with a clause that allows you to eat anything and everything you want if you are up with a child between midnight and 6 a.m. without any thought of weight gain, common sense, etc. I got up with my baby the other night and was so tired that I kept popping Oreos in my mouth to try and stay awake. The next morning I was really, truly horrified to realize how many were gone. I told myself my husband must have had most the package for breakfast...rationalizing always helps.

4/03/2005 12:30:00 AM  
Blogger Heather O. said...


Why limit the clause to just include night time ravaging? I think we should be entitled to eat whatever whenever, just as a reward for working so darn hard!

4/03/2005 03:02:00 PM  

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