3:22 p.m. - November 29, 2005
(Does that sound like a question that Carrie would ask on Sex and the City?)
I ask this because as soon as the clock struck midnight, three things that happened that were, well, bad.
They’re not end-of-the-world bad. Not at all. They’re probably more annoying bad as in a fly-flew-into-your-beer-and-it’s-the-last-one-you-have-at-home annoying.
It started last night around 2:00 or so. Kristin woke up from her deep snooze. This was partially my fault – I put her upstairs a bit too early. She conked out before ten and instead of keeping her downstairs, where she’d be more apt to be jostled awake as I cheered the Colts as they beat the Steelers into submission, I put her in her crib. She’s normally been tearing off good chunks of sleep time, so I was taking a risk.
It was a risk that didn’t pay off.
Liz thought she had her calmed down within 45 minutes, but Kristin did not want to go back to sleep. So Liz brought her into the bedroom with us. Big mistake, because Kristin was wide awake and playing the “Hey! It’s Daddy’s face! Let’s contort it into shapes that only I can make!” game. Ouch!
So at about 3:15 or so I decided enough was enough, and started my patent-pending put Kristin to sleep maneuvers. Those consist of holding her over a shoulder and standing up or walking around the house.
She was asleep within 15 minutes, and now I was off to dreamland.
By 4:00 I was up again, and on the computer, thinking that maybe a ˝ hour of net time would put me to sleep.
Nope, so I tried again, and I think I finally got back to sleep between 5 and 5:30.
So I lost about 3 to 3 ˝ hours of sleep last night, AFTER Monday Night Football (though my alcohol intake consisted of one glass of Shiraz. I know, I’m such a lush…)
Then, I was awakened to Katie hot-footing it to the bathroom. She ran by saying, “I need to go poop!” Hey, that’s a good sign! No pooping in the pull up. That’s really neat for her to do that during the night. I’d better check what time it is….
Technically, technically, technically, I’m supposed to be here 8-ish. And since my car was still at the shop I had to work. So I was a bit freaked.
Not as freaked as Liz, though, as she had to get up, get Katie fed and ready for pre-school, get Kristin awake, and get Katie to pre-school before 8:40.
I was a bit lost. No time for the normal reading o’ the newspapers, during the sipping o’ the coffee and the watching o’ The Daily Show and Letterman. I ran out to get the newspapers so I could read the sports and comics whilst brushing my teeth and shaving.
So there’s no sleep and then there’s oversleeping. What else could go wrong.
I was soon to find out.
Actually, I was fairly calm getting ready after the shock of being totally late. I wasn’t rushing through the shower, and felt like I was ready for the day.
Then I stepped out of the shower. And everything went into slow motion.
I felt I was watching the Six Million Dollar Man, except I didn’t have the cool sound effects, as I saw the world go from vertical to horizontal.
Next thing I knew I was sprawled out on the floor of my bathroom.
Mr. Graceful here had slipped out of the shower.
Ouch, ouch, ouch!
I laid on the floor for a minute or so. I was thinking, as I yelped in pain, that no one heard me all the way up here. I could by up here knocked out all concussed and no one would know right away.
When I limped downstairs, Liz asked “So what happened?”
Oh, I just almost killed myself getting out of the shower, thanks.
Right now my left shin is bruised, my right knee is wrenched, and I have a big scrape where my right shin impaled itself on the track where the shower door nestles. And I had to walk to work today.
Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!
So not only was I sleep deprived and late but now I’m limping like I rode a horse for 6 straight hours.
The visual, it was precious, I bet.
But the good news I wasn’t totally late to work, Katie made it to preschool on time, and my car just needed a new batter instead of some other work.
So I guess if bad things come in threes – at least today it was used up by 8:30 in the morning!