Guest post by Sarah at Cheeze Whiz and Mustard
I went out for a free foot spa thing last night (hosted by Mary Kay, which reminds me of my grandmother, but it was a get-out-of-jail-free card, so why not?). I got home at 8:45, my dear husband said that he JUST got Sacha into bed. As in 2 minute prior. Despite his established bedtime of 7:00 (which we agreed upon a LONG TIME AGO). Because “he just didn’t want to go down, so we played with Mr Dash (the cat).” Oh for the love of Buddha, Vishnu and Krishna! Am I the ONLY one capable of doing anything in this house?!
And then my dearest hubby spent the night grumbling and mumbling, making me feel bad for making him put Sacha down all by himself ONCE simply because I wanted to go get some free stuff and have a night to MYSELF. I think this is only the second time he has ever put Sacha to sleep alone. That’s right, people. In 10 months of bedtime routines, he has always played the role of assistant, and I thought he was ready for a promotion. I guess not.
Then, of course, when Sacha woke up at 3:00 am and wanted NOTHING to do with sleep (shocking, since Daddy let him get up and play the last time he protested sweet slumber), I felt guilty so I dealt with it until I could deal no more. Daddy went in at 4, which didn’t solve anything, though, as I had to go back in there at 4:30 and spend the next 3 hours in a state of total frustration and zombie-like awareness huddled next to a baby boy on a folded up pissed-puked-and-pooped on futon mattress with a child who seemed ever intent on kicking my sorry ass onto the floor. All so I could let my dearest husband get his beauty rest, get over his cold, and not be Grumpy McMeany at work in the morning.
This morning, the husband casually asks: “Is 3:00 the first time Sacha woke up?”
Umn, no dear. It wasn’t. But the fact that you even had to ask pisses me off. Next time Sacha and I have a midnight-slumber-party-hold-the-slumber for your benefit, a thank you would be much appreciated.
Guest post by Sarah at Cheeze Whiz and Mustard
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