To the untrained eye, it would appear I just had four days off. Four days of not working. Four days of rest of relaxation. Four days to recharge my batteries before returning to the rigorous world of print journalism.
Well that’s bullshit!
My four-day “vacation” was anything but. In fact, I’ve come to realize there are no more vacations, at least not as I once knew them. You see, a vacation used to mean something very specific to me. Obviously it meant not going to work, but it also implied that I was going to have a good time. It meant I was headed some place with friends or with MJ. It meant that a hotel and a bar or two would be involved. It meant being carefree, doing what I wanted when I wanted to do it and genuinely having a good time.
Now, not so much. My “vacation” began with a trip to the ER because MJ couldn’t stop throwing up. Thank God for my parents who were nice enough to come rescue Will and take him for the night, or else things really could’ve gone wrong. Tuesday morning we slept in and that was going to be the highlight of my time off. Because then Will got home and ever since then it’s been horrible.
We took him to a friend’s house on New Year’s Eve, and were naive enough to think he would simply drift off to sleep upstairs in his Pack & Play while we enjoyed some NYE merriment. Wrong. Fucking. Answer. Instead, he stayed up THE ENTIRE NIGHT. Will watched the ball drop with us because every time we tried to put him to bed, he screamed bloody murder. And don’t tell me to let him cry it out, because we did that too. We left him up there for 30-45 minutes at a time and he NEVER stopped screaming.
Which brings us to New Year’s day and our night from hell last night. He didn’t sleep for more than 2.5 hours at a time. It was a horror show. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown last night as I held my screaming son and wanted to shake him shouting “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU WHY WON’T YOU STOP CRYING YOU WRETCHED LITTLE DEMON SPAWN OF SATAN?!?!!?”
I have friends who never — under any circumstances — take their son out past his bedtime. I used to think they were crazy for this because it kept them from going places and seeing their friends. But they held steadfast, and maintained that if they broke his bedtime routine they’d ruin everything and have to start from scratch. I chalked it up to them being wusses, but now I think they may be the wisest parents in the history of parenthood. Because right now, I’d gladly forsake any kind of fun for myself in lieu of my son sleeping 8-9 hours at a time on a regular basis. I don’t need Christmas or birthday presents, just a son with a regular sleep schedule.
And to make matters worse…I’m sick. I’m stuffed up beyond belief and my throat hurts. Will has a doctor’s appointment later this week and I won’t be surprised to learn he has something wrong with him too. Maybe an ear infection.
What the hell 2009? Didn’t I tell you you had to be nicer than 2008!? This is a dubious start to what was supposed to be a spectacular new year.