Last night:
Drive long way home, past new babysitter. Get home half hour later. Wrinkle nose at now-even-bloody-longer commute time. Walk in. Take bowl of hot soup from husband and eat. Take baby from husband. Husband off to work. Bye husband.
Drag Christmas junk out of shed. Decorate house. Decorate tree. Perform requisite Baby’s First Christmas duties with video, still camera, etc. Sick throwing up baby. Sick throwing up cat. Christmas mess all over the place. Pause, deal with sick throwing up snotty nose grumpy pants baby. Ignore low-man-on-totem-pole sick throwing up cat. Feed baby, pat baby, clean up baby, bounce baby, love baby. Baby late to sleep. Then sort out Christmas mess. Then sleep. Until baby wakes up, snotty nose, grumpy. Then sleep again.
This morning:
Perky wakey up baby, 4:45 am. Late to bed, early to rise. Counterintuitive, but true. Baby not sick. Baby very chirpy. Mommy also miraculously not sick. Mommy also not chirpy. Black circles around eyes mommy. Stumbley down the hall mommy. Park baby in bouncy chair, then pour ocean of coffee, then wash dishes, wash diapers, fold laundry, make beds, finish tidying Christmas mess, make baby breakfast, hand to husband to feed, get ready for work. Wet hair in towel, pants and shoes on, no clean bra. Decide THE HELL WITH IT, call work to call in sick. Remember have no sick time. Remember vacation time is tight. Hang up on night receptionist, in mid-ThankyouforcallinghowmayIdirectyourcall. Dry effing hair, put on effing shirt, shove in effing earrings, stomp down hall and out door. Drive to work, past new babysitter, and cry a few tears over former very short only just one hour commute. Stomp into work. Stomp into office. Slam door open. Slam lights on, as slammy as can slam a wee light switch. Stomp down to assistant and solicit sympathy for exhausted state. Stomp into office. Snap at coworker. Rustle some papers to look busy. Shut door. Have pity party. Violins, etc.
Remember lovely Christmas tree with lights in the pre-dawn hours. Remember perky smiley (nonsleepy) baby, so sweet. Decide since can’t be mad at baby, should be mad at husband. He can take it.
Still pity partying, but now feel guilty about it, because of counting blessings and all that Christmas season schlock.
Wish to be a smoker, so could at least soothe self with cigarette. Wish to have some sort of food in this office, so could soothe self with calories. Wish to have a bed in this office, so could soothe self with nap. Have to settle for soothing self with blog.
Merry stupid Christmas.