This has been another tough week for me on the work front. I’ve been logging some cat burglar hours. And that means Diana has taken 100% responsibility for Elijah, instead of her usual 99.9%. And as much of a joy the child is, it can get a little draining. Especially now that he is officially in his “I’d prefer to be held at all times" stage.
Last night, I limped home, drank a glass of wine and hit the sack, knowing that I had to be up early for meetings that would determine the future of the free world. You know, advertising. Somehow Eli knew my sleep was precious, because he woke up at 3a.m. and caterwauled for a good hour before Diana broke down and comforted him.
After much rocking and bottle sucking, he went back to sleep. I woke up at 6, needing to get a start to my day and Diana whispered, “Do everything in your power not to wake him up. I need sleep!” You know, in that kind of yell slash whisper.
Keep in mind I have to walk through his room to get downstairs and he has amazing hearing. So I crawled on my hands and knees through his room and down the stairs, much to the joy of Grover, who thought it was a game. He proceeded to bat he in my face with his paw in an attempt to get me to chase him. I mouthed, “Get out of the way, or no ball chasing for a week.”
I made it downstairs and showered. On my way up the stairs, I heard Eli stir in his crib. He popped his head up and I hit the dirt. If he thinks everyone is still asleep he’ll sometimes go back to sleep. So imagine a grown man, naked, crawling along the floor, silently with a big black dog debating whether or not to bite his fleshy naked butt.
I managed to silently put my clothes on, sneak back downstairs and touch the front door before Eli started screaming. Which officially gave Di an extra 5 minutes of sleep.
p.s. Babies in a man’s hat? Cute.
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