We then drift off to sleep - the two of us grinning happily as we begin to dream of producing a book that tells the secrets to a happy marriage.
It is now 2 o'clock in the morning and Sammy has been awakened by his demon tapeworm. His eyes are alight with anger, and his arms wail about as if possessed.
My wife leans over to nudge me awake and says in her sweetest voice, "Dear - would you kindly tend to our lovely child, as it seems he needs to be changed and fed."
I reply, "Ugh."
To which she says, "What do you mean, 'Ugh', he's YOUR child too, you know". The sweet voice has disappeared.
"Yeah, no duh - I'm just not all that excited about getting up, what's your problem?"
"Well, why not, you ARE apparently the model father. God, I'm so sick of this."
"Sick of what? Talking? Complaining? I don't have a problem if you're so sick that you don't do those things anymore."
Ten minutes go by in silence. She finishes pumping, I finish feeding/changing, and we lie back down.
I say meekly, "Snuggling...kissing?"
She sarcastically, but cutely replies, "So now you're listing things we're never going to do again?" as she submits to being the little spoon and we drift back to sleep in each others arms as if we never said a word to each other.
Repeat this on average twice a night for almost four months (4 months * ~30 nights/month) or about 240 times since the kid came.
We used to get mad at each other, and not talk for a couple hours in the morning after we'd fight at two in the morning, but then we realized...it's two in the morning. It's basically like you're just dreaming anyway.
Also, when you see this face looking up at you from the crib:
It's hard to be mad at anyone.
At least you have your sense of humor through this. This will eventually pass, even the tapeworm. I promise. And at least you get up too, my husband doesn't because I breastfed and he feels uncomfortable changing girls diapers (but if we'd had a boy, I would have had to deal with it). That man frustrates me and I wonder sometimes what I got myself into, marrying an American instead of that good Polish boy who was also very interested in me when I was younger. Then, I remind myself, my husband is a dirty hippy raised by dirty hippies, it has nothing to do with American or not. Anyway....
ReplyDeleteYour little 2 am monster is adorable! *spit spit spit* Hugs!
Don't you know, that's why they're so cute for the first few years. After that you're stuck with them; it would be too much trouble to get rid of them, since you already have all the clothes and paraphernalia they require.
ReplyDeleteHe is adorable. Enjoy that part.
Oh don't get me started on this. I'm the one who does ALL the nighttime stuff because I nurse him. Now he's in his own room, and I have to walk all the way across the house. And sometimes he'll wake up and go "honey, the baby?" and that's when the fight starts. Maddening. of course, we have more us time now that Luke goes to bed at 7:30!
ReplyDelete