Now that Mama is back from Brussels we’re one big happy family again. Especially since Mama returned with Belgian chocolate.
Or we were, until this weekend, when 3B picked up a nasty virus that caused him to cough twice every 22.3 seconds all day Sunday. And into the night. And into Monday morning.
Since Mama and her mom are sleeping in our bed, I’m sleeping in the bottom bunk across from 3B’s crib. For awhile on Sunday night, 3B was sleeping through his own coughing, but I wasn’t. Finally, after he sat up crying for his Mommy, I got up to dose him to try to give him some relief. This was misinterpreted by 3B as an opportunity to get an early start on our day–at 12:01 a.m.
Mama mercifully came out at 1 a.m. to relieve me of duty–probably having been awakened by the full volume rock concert 3B was playing in our living room. I had totally forgotten about his whole back catalog.
I felt bad for Mama, since she’s just barely back in this time zone and pregnant and working and staying at home with 3B and entertaining her mom…but that didn’t stop me from collapsing into that bottom bunk. I didn’t wake up when Mama came in to put 3B back into his crib, when 3B kept coughing or when Mama came in to offer that 3B could go into her bed–an offer he didn’t hear either, since he was again sleeping through his coughing.
I did, however, sit upright when
the goddamn mutt our adorable Barky used his head as a battering ram to blast the bedroom door open, letting the glow from the bathroom nightlight fill the room. Since it didn’t wake 3B, however, I just lay back down to sleep as Barky grumbled himself into a fuzzy circle on the futon below me.
A few hours later, I got up and went to work. Grammy got up as I got ready, just in case 3B woke up, so that Mama could sleep in. Mama, of course, couldn’t sleep in, so she was up before I left too. 3B slept until 11:30, of course. But then he didn’t nap.
So everyone was in a fine mood yesterday evening. Not to say that we didn’t have a good time–we adults just shuffled and laughed our way through until we all went to bed early. 3B gets wound up into an amusing mania when he’s that tired. The mania, however, was accompanied by the whining. Oh, the whining. The screeching, cringe inducing sound that would ruin Dale Chihuly if 3B were to do it in his studio. And there were microtantrums over every transition, suggestion and turn of the page.
Although 3B wasn’t aware of how his fatigue was affecting him, it was clear to all of us, so we herded him to bed as early as possible. It reminded me of all those times when Mom told me, “You just need to go to bed.” And of all the times I defiantly replied, “No, I don’t. I’m fine. I don’t feel tired.”
Once again, and as always, too late, I realize how right Mom was. And what I’m in for.