Tuesday, December 8, 2009


I wish I could explain to you the exhaustion. The absolutely dire lack of sleep. The immenent need to crawl back into bed and sleep until tomorrow. I. Am. Tired.

{The Backstory}

So, we're eating last night. It's about 6:30pm. Groceries are strewn haphazardly across the kitchen table and sink, and dinner was some kind of microwavable pasta that I got on sale for a buck. Becks is shoveling yogurt into his mouth with one hand while holding a perfectly capable spoon with the other. I guess it's only for show, since his hands are his utensil of choice. B and I are conversing about the day's events and suddenly there was a flicker. The lights.





No electric. Streetwide. Citywide.

I made a couple of phone calls to the energy company, reported our outage and prayed that this wasn't a repeat of September 2008 when we lost power for the entire work week. The automated machine said that we'd receive a phone call when power was restored. The difference between having a major power outage in September versus December is obviously temperature. Our poorly insulated 1950s cape cod was losing heat faster than you can say shiver me timbers, and we could barely hear each other over all the teeth chattering.

An hour later we were still powerless, so we gathered all the candle power we could and started packing our things to stay at my parents' place where heat and cable TV were abundant. Pending that promised call from the energy co., we'd planned to stay there all night.

So we end up sleeping over and all is peaceful and wonderful until Becks gets up wailing at 3am. We pull him into bed between us and head back into dreamland. Except not. Because Beckham was wide awake, and performed TWO AND A HALF HOURS worth of acrobatics between me and B for the duration of the night.

He repeatedly tossed and turned, headbutting me all the while in a futile attempt at getting comfortable. He smothered me with G (his lovie), and laid his head on my face. Then he would alternate between my stomach and face. Then he pivoted around so that his feet were by my head or B's stomach and he would start to kick. When I went to the bathroom at 4am, he insisted on accompanying me and asked for a drink and to brush his teeth. This went on for TWO AND A HALF HOURS. If you didn't catch that earlier, I thought I'd bold and underline it again. Because that's a long darn time. All in all, there was a whole lotta non-sleep going on.

At 5:30am, I gave up. And now I'm basically a zombie.

Oh, but lest my neighbor inform me - the power returned at 9pm last night.

Never got that phone call. Arrrrrrrgh.

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