Let me begin by reiterating the fact that The Harpster is a pretty good baby. She's pretty good-natured and easy going. But this post is not really about her.
I am inspired to write this because of an email that I sent my friend this morning as I was fuming over the events of the night.
Harper cried ALL night. It all started around 11:45. She'd give us about 30 min of quiet, and then more crying, ummm, we'll call it screaming for now. I was already tired from the events of the past few weeks, so I was silently dreading the night I could foresee ahead of me. (Notice I said ME).
At one point (around 12am) my very smart, intelligent husband rolled over and spoke these words to me:
"Can you just figure out what is wrong with her, this screaming is really getting on my nerves..."
"Exxxccccuuussseee me?" I replied in a very sarcastic tone. "Can I figure out what is wrong with her...? Why don't you do it, genius...?"
Those were the only words he spoke to me the whole night. One may quickly conclude that this was a good thing... But it wasn't. Keep in mind I was up ALL NIGHT and this man was "sleeping" right next to me. Do you know how many times he offered to get up and help me? That's right folks, ZIP, ZERO, ZILCH, NONE.
I could have somewhat given him the benefit of the doubt if he would have had to work this morning, but I am afraid (for his life) to tell you what he had on HIS schedule today....(Gasp)....... GOLF... Yes, that's right, GOLF.
"Sweetie, let me take the baby to the rec-room so that you can get your beauty sleep. I wouldn't want you looking like you have pink eye on the course... If your eyes are dry and tired, you wouldn't be able to efficiently hit the ball, would you?" (puke. puke.) "The driving range may look just a little fuzzy after a night of reduced sleep, and I wouldn't want you to endure that!"
Oh, honey, I pity you right now as I know all the Mothers reading this are about to go POSTAL on your hind parts. (At this point, I wouldn't defend you...sorry....)
If he thinks he's leaving this house without a baby bjorn strapped to his chest, he's smoking crack!
So now that my vent is over, guess where my lovely husband is? You got it! Legends Golf Course, now I will say that he promised he would only hit balls on the driving range and be back by the time Grace woke up, but we'll see.
In his defense, he did let me sleep from around 10:30am to 1pm this afternoon while the in-laws had Grace out and about. And he did take Grace to the doctor this morning. (Another ear infection and allergies. Add that to the list of the Burton infirmities.) So, yes, I am still here with the babies, although one is asleep... the other is still crying on the floor beside me.
I was able to go (with Harper) to the 50% off day at the goodwill...but the people (shopping) were rude and obnoxious and it was packed, and I didn't find anything good, so I was annoyed about that. But hey, I was up anyways, and in the car, little H is just fine, so I took the opportunity to leave.
Ok, so just for the record, I am not mad at Chris anymore, and I think we just need a date night (and a trip to Anthropologie), WITHOUT the kids.