I’m officially counting down the hours until JG returns from this week’s work trip. I flipped the switch to survival mode late last night when I turned down the baby monitor and watched the lights for ten minutes praying to the flying spaghetti monster that Ladybug wouldn’t be disturbed by the whiny-mamamamaing and pitiful cries of my now NINE month old son.
I’m not going to complain today because I think I might’ve overdone it in a text message at 2am to JG. Something about not making it to the summer this way and maybe I mentioned a new addiction to zoloft…. it’s all a little hazy.
The good thing that’s come out of this whole shitty I-work-in-DC-and-live-in-Florida thing my husband has started doing is that I’ve really pushed myself to limits I never knew I had in me. Quite frankly, I’m more resourceful than you are. Read and learn. Jot down some notes. I don’t mind. It’s me, but helpier.
I have been sleeping in my car. Out of necessity, of course and not leisure. It started Wednesday after I barely made it to the school to drop off Ladybug. I sat at stop lights with my eyes all squinty and tried to sing show tunes to keep myself awake. Nobody does “All That Jazz” like I do at eight am. When she was safely in class I peeked in the rear-view mirror to see my green-snot-sick baby sleeping like…well like a green-snot-sick baby. You know, encrusted in chartreuse, pouty lipped, and making little whimpers here and there to punctuate the whole mess. And I thought maybe I would wake the little snot-ball up to give him a taste of his own medicine, but changed my mind when I realized I could drive to the nearest Starbucks in peace if I let him sleep. I’m a kind and selfless mother.
In the parking lot of said coffee place, I had an argument with myself.
Me: go for three shots today. we’ve never gone that far, but I think we’re ready. do it.
Me: um. but then i’ll have the jitters.
Me: who the eff cares? it’s either that or nap at every red light from here to home.
Me: Those weren’t NAPS. They were long blinks.
Me: yeah. whatever. let’s go.
Me: but he’s sleeping so hard he’s snoring. and he won’t go back to sleep if i wake him up now.
Me: damn. we need this coffee. you know it. i know it. just be quiet and careful when you get him out of the seat.
Me: like that ever works. why don’t we just take a nap here.
Me: here? like in Starbucks? people will stare. we have too much pride to be mistaken for a hobo and someone will call the cops if you leave the snotball in the car.
Me: no. I mean HERE. *starts cranking the seat back
Me: oh. HERE. haha. you’re
Me: I’m so serious right now. *yawn
Me: don’t even. people will park next to us and think….
Me: what? think what? that poor woman and her baby are so tired….
Me: I don’t know. It feels desperate. *yawn
Me: we are desperate. just go with it.
Me: but where’s your pride? only drunk people and degenerates sleep in their cars in random parking lots.
Me: this isn’t random, it’s Starbucks. they have wi-fi. there’s an app for this.
Me: Fine, but as soon as he stirs, we’re up and in drinking a latte. *yawn
Me: juz a foom la noonoo *drool
One hour. That’s how long we slept in the car waiting to get a coffee. Today was an hour fifteen, but I came straight home and did it in the driveway with the windows down because, hey…it’s a beautiful morning. Then I woke up and he was still asleep, so I started up the old wagon and headed to the drive-thru for some “wakeup feelin” (that’s what my mom called oj when i was a kid, but it works with coffee so go with it).
Now look at me. It’s almost two o’clock and I haven’t thrown a shoe at the dogs or smacked myself in the face ONCE. It’s like I have this whole up all night thing in the bag. Like I’m kicking its ass and taking its name. Like I can just stay up all night and sleep in random parking lots or driveways when I get tired and my eyes get nappy at traffic lights.
Yeah. Like that.