I am (apparently) SHE-Ra!

Posted on | January 30, 2010 | No Comments

Friday nights are theoretically Husband’s nights to keep J so that I can have a night off. We made that bargain several weeks ago but he has only actually accomplished the feat twice. And I secretly don’t mind his failed attempts. It’s really easier to just continue to sleep in the nursery than to climb once a week into my long-forgotten bed that is bigger, softer and generally much more comfortable. It makes it so much harder to transition back to the nursery bed the next night.

These Friday nights have taught me a few things though. First, I was a fool to think I got a night off. I don’t know what magical fairytale I read that made me believe that I could slide on a glass slipper, eat an apple and fall into a deep sleep that I couldn’t be awakened from. Not even an apple martini could accomplish that. I wake up every time J cries. Not just the loud cries… every cry. I tried shutting the door. I tried covering my head with pillows and covers. I tried everything short of paying for a hotel room. Nothing worked. I simply cannot sleep through J crying. And it wasn’t as though Husband was just casually letting him cry, either. Usually he had him quiet within a few seconds.

This leads me to my next lesson learned. I have super powers. Faster than a speeding bullet? Yep. That’s me. More rapid than eagles her courses they came? Yep. Me again. When J cries, he’s like a tractor beam … sucks me right in. But before I explain that lesson, I should probably explain the last lesson I’ve learned. Husband has a vivid and vicious imagination when he’s tired. We’re talking Stephen King imagination.

Let me paint the scene for you. It’s early Saturday morning, close to 4:30am. I am nestled all snug in my bed with visions of sleep-filled nights dancing in my head. Husband is … I don’t know where. I guess the nursery. J begins to cry. I, as mentioned, wake up. I hear Husband pacing the floor and whispering to J. J gets quiet. J remains quiet for sometime. I fall back asleep. And then… BAM! I hear the loudest noise followed by J screaming at the top of his lungs. I don’t know what I would have done if I were fully awake when that happened and I’m not quite sure I know what happened with me half-asleep. I don’t know how I got there but in about half a second I was standing in the nursery staring down Husband.

I thought Husband had dropped J. Seriously. That was all that was going through my mind. So I’m saying over and over “what happened” and Husband is looking like he’s seen a ghost, is shaking and muttering incomprehensibly. Those actions lead me to REALLY believe that Husband has dropped J. So I whisper-scream “did you drop him” to which he finally says “no!” But he’s still acting pretty shady so I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong. Finally he calms down enough to tell me that I scared him. Now that would have been enough to say. But no. Husband has to expound. Not only did I generically scare him, but he tells me that I “came in all crazy-haired and might have had a knife.”

WHAT? Why would I have a knife? Is this what he thinks of me in his spare time? Maybe he meant that I was trying to protect him and J? I just looked at him so he continued.

“You got in here so fast. How did you move so fast? I thought you might be trying to kill me. You just looked so scary!”

Ah, words of love. Sweet music to my ears. I am now a crazy-haired, knife-wielding psychopath who is out to kill my husband for letting our son cry. Awesome. Feeling the love. I can understand being alarmed that I apparently have super powers, I mean, yes that’s pretty freaking sweet, but with great power comes great responsibility and great fear on the part of your spouse. But the fact that his mind told him to be afraid I might have a knife should probably raise a red flag in our marriage. The best part is that he feels the need to share the story with friends and relatives and he always expounds on the fact that I looked so scary with my red hair all crazy and scary looking. I have since made an appointment with my hairdresser. Sounds like I’m in need of some assistance. Oh well. It’s probably best that he maintains a healthy fear of me. Maybe next time I’ll bring a knife with me just for fun.

Signing off now. But this crazy-haired super hero will be back tomorrow. Happy Saturday, y’all!

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.
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