So last night was an interesting night. As my last night alone at home with Camper (John works nights, my parents have been on vacation) I thought I had make it through without wigging myself out. I know I’m a grown up…but I have to accept that I just hate being alone. Hate it. So this is the conversation I had with John via text messaging last night:
Me: You there?
John: Yeah. What’s up?
Me: I’m not sure. I’m just really uneasy. Can’t relax. Just needed to talk to you I guess…I will tell you my issues.
John: What are your issues?
Me: 1) My feet keep falling asleep and I keep imagining going all paralyzed and Camper crying. 2) The vice president said that he wouldn’t let his family fly right now and I’m scared my parents are bringing home the swine flu and I watched Private Practice where some crazy woman is going to cut out that woman’s baby and I keep hearing stuff.
At that point John called me. See here’s the thing. I know very well that I’m not going to go all paralyzed and that no one is going to show up and try and cut my baby out (mostly because I’m not pregnant anymore) and I’m not even REALLY THAT worried about the stupid swine flu. Moderately worried, yes. But not VERY. But every once in awhile I have to get a little help getting things out of my head. My Aunt and I talked about this the other day, the tendency our family has (many people have, really) to let fear get a little out of control. Most of the time these days I can get through it on my own. Relax, fall asleep. But I was SO CLOSE to asking John to come home last night that I knew I had to at least talk to him for a minute. He stayed on the phone with me while I checked on Bubbs, locked the windows downstairs and wandered around to shake the heebie jeebies off. Then we talked. For over an hour. He put on a headset so he could keep working while he chatted with me. It was kind of nice, like we were still dating. He was able to convince me that at the first sign of swine anything we’d get ourselves to the hospital, but that really…we most likely will not get it. He also distracted me from Private Practice, which I’m ridiculously addicted to, although it might be the most far-fetched medical drama yet. (Besides the internal baby-snatching, last night’s episode included the doctors switching two embryos for two women’s IVF, one of which was the LAST embryo one woman had left from her dead husband. Seriously.) Sometime around 1am I guess I was getting super sleepy, I had put a movie on in the background and ended up just falling asleep with it on. We said goodnight, and I was better. Wa la.
I guess John expected me to have a night like last night two nights ago after watching The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. *Spoiler freaking alert* I expected it to be uplifting, but instead I watched as an 8 year old German boy befriended a Jewish boy in a concentration camp, lost all faith in his father (who ran the camp), and then snuck into the camp to help his Jewish friend find HIS father, only to be herded with all the other men (naked, I might add) into a furnace and burned. Yeah. And that was the end. The guy in charge of the camp lost his own son, the mother went slowly crazy as she found out what her husband was up to, and both little boys died. It was awful.
But no, I was ok after that. It was Private Practice that got me in the end.
Today was busy- cleaned things up a bit this morning- made sure the laundry room was clear for my parents. I ran some errands. Went to the dry cleaner (drive through! genius!), brought a coupon to a store I went to last week and got $25 back from my purchase (wow!), then spent that $25 on a swim shirt for Camper and some travel bottles. I then ran by WalMart to pick up perscriptions and contacts and a few things here and there (dryer sheets, very important), and then back home. Bubbs took a nap while I made some sweet and sour kielbasa, then we all ate together and the Bubbs got a bath…and then he WENT TO SLEEP. WITHOUT CRYING. ALONE IN HIS CRIB.
Last night and tonight were so sweet. I got him in his nighty night diaper, brushed his teeth, and then we rocked for a little bit. Now when I sing to him he smiles behind his pacifier and buries his head into my chest. I say a little prayer for him, and then lay him down, and he seriously rolls over and goes to sleep. It’s wonderful. Just wonderful. It’s so nice to have a peaceful baby at bedtime, happy even. I know there will still be nights when he’s FREAKING OUT, but hopefully these sweet nights with the cuddling and the peaceful drifting off to sleep will be the norm.
I think I’m going to go check him though…because he’s perfected the art of pooing in his sleep. Good times, no?
Welcome to the weekend everyone.
