So Very Sleepy

In case you don't already know, our lovely Lena does not sleep much. When it comes to sleep, Elias is our textbook baby. The good books say a baby around Lena's age should sleep twelve hours a night and take two two-hour naps a day and that is exactly what Elias did. Of course, I did not truly appreciate his sleeping habits until Lena came along.

According to my calculations, based on all the books about babies and sleep, Lena should not be alive. Babies "need" way more sleep than she gets. The funny thing is, she seems OK. She's got a great disposition; she doesn't seem grumpy. I am starting to accept that she just doesn't need that much sleep. It's like she's taken power-napping to the extreme. And as a result, I am sleep-deprived.

I am so sleepy. Tired. Exhausted. I suffer from a severe lack of sleep. It is getting better. We're sleeping through the night now. And that's huge. And wonderful. Since I've had children, I have done some pretty ridiculous things in the name of exhaustion. Here are some of my favorites, in chronological order:

1. After a days long search, I FINALLY found my keys. In the refrigerator.


2. I had the following conversation in the middle of the night with my husband about Elias, who often slept in our bed with us when he was an infant:
   Tam:   Sweetie, I have to go to the bathroom. Can you take Eli?
   JM:     Yeah, I can take him.
             [We fumble in the dark, slowly, carefully.]
   Tam:   Ok, here he is.
             [More fumbling. A handoff of some sort takes place.]
   JM:     Ok.
   Tam:   Do you have him?
   JM:     Yeah, I have him.
   Tam:   Ok.
             [I get out of the bed.]
   JM:     Wait, where is he?
   Tam:  What do you MEAN where is he? You said you had him. Do you have him?
   JM:     I thought I had him. Where is he? Oh my GOD.
   Tam:   You THOUGHT you had him? You said you had him! Oh my GOD. Turn on the light. Turn on the light. Turn on the light!
             [I turn on the light to find JM in a complete frenzy tossing pillows and sheets and blankets off the bed in a mad search for our newborn child, who was, as it turns out, peacefully asleep in his crib in the other room. Looks like I dreamed that I had him in the first place and JM followed suit.]


3. I wore two different tennis shoes, a new white Reebok and an eight-year old dingy gray New Balance, to the Austin Children’s Museum. When I made the discovery in the car en route to the museum, we decided to continue on, as opposed to returning home to change shoes. We did so primarily because we were too tired to turn around and also on the assumption that (1)other parents at the museum would be too absorbed in their children to notice, or (2)if they did notice, they would understand that it was probably due to lack of sleep, or (3)they would also be wearing shoes that didn’t match.


4. I talked on the telephone with my sister while frantically searching for my cell phone. Exasperated, I finally told her I would have to let her go so I could focus on finding my phone. I had to find it. Where could it be? I JUST had it. She pointed out to me that I was, indeed, talking to her on my cell phone.


5. I stood in front of the good old-fashioned pull-them-open-yourself-if-you-want-to-get-inside doors at JoAnn’s Fabrics, waiting for them to automatically open for me. I stood there so long that an employee came outside to ask me if I needed help. (I must add that I NEVER went to JoAnn’s fabrics until I had kids.)


6. I had the following telephone conversation about my own address with the Eat-Out-In Delivery guy:
   Guy:   Eat-Out-In Delivery. Is this delivery to a residence?
   Tam:   Yes. My house.
   Guy:   OK. Address please.
   Tam:   One…I mean… Eleven. Umm. 1108 Buttonwood. Wait. That doesn’t sound right.
   Guy:   Is this your residence, ma’am?
   Tam:   Yes. I’m confused. I’m sorry... I just had a baby.
   Guy:   Uhh. Congratulations.
             [awkward silence.]
   Guy:   Um. What was that address?
   Tam:   Oh, right. I can look on my calendar. I have this great calendar and it has everyone's address on it. It’s on my calendar.
             [I then proceeded to look on my calendar, which as it turned out, had my address wrong.]
   Tam:   Here it is. 1608 Buttonwood. Wait. That doesn’t sound right.
   Guy:   You say this is your residence, ma’am?
   Tam:   Yes. I’m sorry. I just had a baby.
             [awkward silence.]
   Guy:   Um. I’m gonna need the address ma’am.
   Tam:   Ok. Um. Can I call you back?
             [I never called him back. How could I?]


7. I had the following telephone conversation with the lady at what has become my favorite Chinese delivery place:
   Lady:   Hello. Supah-Chinah.
   Tam:   I'd like to place an order for delivery.
   Lady:   Ok. You give address?
   Tam:   11608 Buttonwood Drive.
   Lady:   You spell dat?
   Tam:   one-one-six-oh-eight. Buttonwood. B-U-T-T-Oh-N-W-Zero-Zero-D. Oh! I mean Oh-Oh-D. Buttonwood. W-Oh-Oh-D.
   Lady:   You say zero zero. [giggling]
              You thank of…          [guffawing]
   Tam:   I’m sorry. What?
              [At this point, I’m starting to laugh.]
   Lady:   You spell dat wit zero… you thank of numb…
              [Hysterical, and I mean contagious, hysterical laughter.]
   Tam:   [Uncontrollable laughter.]
   Lady:   You thank of… [muffled laughter]… NUMBAH!
              [yet more hysterical laughter. She then tried to get my credit card “numbah” but both of us were so completely unable to speak without laughing that she had to hand the phone over to some other guy and I had to hand the phone over to my very confused mother-in-law so she could actually place the order and pay. I still cannot think about this without laughing very, very hard.]


8. Only minutes after telling my co-worker in the elevator that I did not have my geek-badge thingee and would need her to scan hers in order to open the doors exiting the elevator bank, I stood in the elevator bank, poised in front of the badge access scanner thingee, holding my keys (which have nothing to do with our badges) as if they were, guess what, a badge. I moved them back and forth in front of the scanner thingee for a good 6 seconds. I shook them. I jiggled them. I knocked them against the scanner thingee. I made exasperated sounds to accuse the scanner thingee. I stared blankly at the scanner thingee wondering why the doors would not open. My coworker, in turn, stared blankly at me, not knowing what to do. Finally, she said, “Ummm… I think…” and of course at that point, I realized my blunder. A smarter person might have said something clever. Or made a joke. Or even just turned tail and run silently in the other direction. (I would have, but I couldn't open the doors.) What did I do instead? I laughed hysterically, loudly, uncontrollably, while blathering on to my very uncomfortable coworker something incoherent about having a 4 month old.


9. After being uncomfortable for nearly an hour, slapping at my ankle, sticking fingers and pencils in my tennis shoes to scratch my foot, digging around in search of a nonexistent sticker burr, I finally took my shoe off to investigate the cause of the itch on my foot. First, I saw that I was wearing my sock inside out. And there was apparently some kind of insignia on the outside (now inside) of the sock that was responsible for my discomfort. Upon closer inspection I found that it was a scratchy iron-on type design. It was in bright primary colors, red and blue: a little airplane. What? I don't have airplanes on my socks. But Eli does. I was wearing Eli's sock. His feet are like four inches long. They are tiny. How I stretched his tiny toddler sock over my feet, and THEN put tennis shoes on over them, and THEN went about my business for nearly an hour is beyond me. But that is what I did.

I am sure that I have done at least one more stupid thing that would round this out to a very nice top ten list, but I am too tired to think of one more. The top 9 will have to do.