My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Huh, wuzzah?


Whooo, boy! Nothing like two solid hours of sleep to make you feel on top of things. Yeah, last night was a Red-a-thon. It took the poor child more than two hours to go to sleep – with both my husband and I taking shifts rocking and singing and walking her around. I had not realized it but her crib was full of piranhas and hot tar. Who knew? I wouldn’t want to be placed in there either!

But by nine o’clock, I’d had it. Eventually she stopped shrieking and fell asleep. I mean, once the piranhas get to your face, your screaming days are over. I was asleep by eleven. At some point Dusty snuck into my bed. At one a.m., the crying started again.

Part of me wanted to go the “eventually she’ll stop crying” route and just turn off the monitor because I was too damn tired to give a damn but the Responsible Mother part reared its obnoxious head and I dragged my sorry ass, some pillows and the alarm clock into the living room because I could tell it was going to be One Of Those Nights.

And indeed it was. I gave Red some cold medicine with pain reliever. The label states that the medicine will either “cause excitability” or “cause drowsiness.” Either one thing or its opposite! Flip a coin! What a great product! Thank Jeebus for pharmaceutical firms! I got a bottle of tyl3nol cold to lob at the ceo of McNeil's head right about now. [Actually, that's a lie; I bought the generic store brand. But STILL!]

Guess which way it went for Red? Yep, WIDE-fucking-AWAKE until about 3:30am. That was fun. And the crib was seething with spitting cobras and broccoli so clearly Red couldn't go back to her own bed.

Eventually we drifted off to sleep together on the couch. By then, she was sleeping like the dead (if dead people cough and twitch and fling their limbs around and rub snot all over creation) and I was waking up at 4:30, 5:15, and 6:45 when the alarm went off.

Mmmmm, yeah! I am feeling GOOD today! Top of the world, ma! [note to self: ask Santa for a tubal ligation]

I don’t think we’ll be giving her that particular medicinal concoction tonight. Just a wild guess on my part but I’m pretty sure that’s the way it’s going to go.


On a good note, we finally had our parent/teacher conference yesterday with Dusty’s teacher. Dusty’s teacher loves Dusty. Who wouldn’t? She shared with us Dusty's PALS reading scores and other assessments (as well as the news that Dusty not only read to her yesterday but to the reading specialist the other day – and Dusty never bothered to tell us about this breakthrough. Kids, I tell ya!).

She is reading and comprehending on a second grade level. On some word recognition assessment, she’s up to a third grade level. The teacher remarked on Dusty's artistic abilities and how she’s finding ways to challenge her in her classwork. Dusty is paired up with a boy who’s about at her level and they seem to be working well together. They often do more challenging assignments together and complement each others’ strengths. Who knew? Dusty only ever mentions boys in reference to their crazy behavior.


So, there you have it. I have used up all my available functioning brain cells writing this. Hopefully I can apply a bludgeon to Red tonight and we can all get a solid night’s sleep.

'Cause I had other things to talk about.


9:29 a.m. ::
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