Functionless
2004-04-02 at 12:09 p.m.
Today, I work under an extreme handicap... lack of sleep. For reasons still unknown to me, G opted to boycott sleep for the entire night, instead electing to fuss, whimper, thrash and kick me in the teeth during the 10:30pm to 7:00am shift.
Upon further inspection, there appeared to be nothing phycially impeding his ability to slumber, nor did anything appear to be causing him discomfort.
To be on the safe side, I staggered to the kitchen medicine cabinet around 1:00am, to give him a pre-emptive dose of Motrin. It was at this time that I discovered that some numbnuts had put the Motrin bottle away empty. Any guesses as to who may have done this? I'll give you a hint... I married him 14 years ago.
Hauling 30 pounds worth of two year old back up two flights of stairs, I tried to put him back into his own bed. This was not popular. In fact, it went over like a turd in a punch bowl, so I returned him to my bed.
In case you're wondering as to the conspicuous absence of the Motrin-depleter in this picture, he had grown weary of getting kicked in the groin and went off to sleep in a bed that did not contain G.
Said child continued to flounce, kick, bounce and fuss until sunrise, when he finally collapsed out of sheer exhaustion.
Today I'm functioning (?) on possibly an hour and a half sleep, at most. My youngest and final child seems neither exhausted, ill, nor remorseful after his night of insomnia and abuse on my person. I, on the other hand, am ready to crumble to the floor in an obliterated heap.
Need proof of my handicap? This morning, not only did I brew a pot of hot water, but I poured a cup of it and attempted to drink it. I even commented to myself how weak my coffee was.
A dialed my mother's phone number, but forgot who I was calling by the time she answered.
I boiled a pot of water for noodles an hour ago, forgot about it and nearly burnt the house down.
I washed a load of sudsy water, as I failed to add clothing to the washing machine.
I put my jeans on backwards. Proof that my stomach is as big as my ass, they actually fit well.
I'm thinking Mommy needs a map. Or a nap. Or ...ZzzzZZzzzzZzzZ...