Sleep Deprivation Can Increase Natural Clumsiness…

Apparently exhaustion is not only the #2 cause of drunken dressing mishaps…it is also a leading factor in enhancing your natural state of grace. Or in my case, your lack of grace.

Let me enter into evidence my ring finger…


Which was wounded in battle while attempting to drive my car, make a phone call, execute a turn in said vehicle and change the radio station all at the same time. And yes, for a woman that knows that she has problems walking and chewing gum at the same time, I knew going into the situation that it was dicey that all would survive and come out okay. But still I hope for the best.

I’m a woman. We multi-task. It’s what we do.

Some just manage it better than others.

That doesn’t make me less of a woman. It also doesn’t mean that I won’t try it again…probably sometime in the near future.

I’ll just be more careful the next time that I want to hear a different song in the middle of a turn. Apparently those hands free buttons are danger magnets for people like me. Yes a button took a chunk out of my finger. And it bled. A lot. Have I mentioned my intense dislike of the sight of my own blood? It makes me pass out. Good thing that I was safely behind the wheel of my car, huh? (That was sarcasm…)

In order not to be grossed out by the missing chunk of flesh and possibly pass out while eating/showering/driving/sitting at my desk/any-other-number-of-possible-scenarios-of-things-that-I-could-be-doing-when-I-pass-out I grabbed some camouflage. Hence the ugly/cutesy Strawberry Shortcake Band-Aid.

What can I say? I roll in style!

Sleepless Nights Lead to Drunken Dressing…

This is just a public service warning to all readers. This is NOT a test. This can actually happen to you…be warned.

So I mentioned the other day that Jax has thrush. And that I wasn’t sleeping. Yeah, not a fun end of the week and weekend for me. Monday morning wasn’t any better…and Tuesday pretty much sucked. But the angels smiled down on me Tuesday and cleared up the majority of the Thrush and my baby boy slept that night.

For the first time in almost a week.

Yes, you read that right. Tuesday night was the first night since last Thursday night that I’ve slept for more than an hour at a time. I’ll kiss the feet of whatever Saint helped me out…seriously. Surely there’s a Saint for Mothers of Young Children? Anyone heard of that?? If there’s not one, then let’s find someone and appoint them…or however that works, let’s make it happen.

Anyway, back to my public service warning.

If you are operating on less than 3 hours of sleep (for the fourth night in a row) then you should maybe, just maybe, take a few extra minutes in the morning as you’re getting ready. Especially during the dressing portion of your morning. That extra minute or two just might save you a world of embarrassment later on during the day. Sure, my embarrassment was for me and my eyes only, but that’s just a fluke. It could have been worse.

Here’s what happened. I rolled out of bed on Tuesday morning, just barely coherent. I was beyond exhausted…tired of life, tired of one sick/fussy baby in particular, and really tired of being the favored parent. It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be, trust me. (I speak from experience. Twice.) I immediately jumped in the shower before the little jerk sweetheart could wake up and demand my attention and managed to get through the showering/brushing teeth process in peace. Amazed at my good luck, I snuck out of the bathroom to find my clothes and rushed back into the bathroom to get dressed.

It would be nice if I was less honest here and I told you that I got dressed in the dark bedroom. That would give me more of an excuse. But I can’t lie. I got dressed in the brightly lit bathroom. But I was still very sleep deprived.

I had black pants, a cutesy top and of course, my bra and underwear. Everything went onto my body in a hurry because I still needed to dry my hair, and if I could also manage to do that without waking the little man…it would really be my lucky day!  Color me shocked when all goes according to plan. He sleeps until I actually have two free hands to get him out of bed with and a few minutes to devote to his every whim and fancy.

Let’s fast forward to the afternoon: fix breakfast, take baby to day care, drop big kid off a elementary school, fight traffic, get to work, work on several things and nothing at all at the same time, go to lunch with hubby and come back from lunch.

Whew! Exciting day, huh? Well, sometime around the middle of the afternoon I had to go to the little girl’s room. Yes, I had already been several times throughout the day. No, I didn’t notice anything amiss during the other visits. And I really can’t tell you why this visit was different. Either way, this time when I was in the restroom, I happened to look down (because where else do you look while you’re in the restroom?) and noticed something odd about my underwear.

Yes, it was mine.

No, it wasn’t from the dirty pile.

But…oh wait…yep, it’s on inside out.

Hmmm…what to do now? Change it and flip it right side out after wearing it the wrong way all day long? Or just leave it alone because the work day is almost over anyway and then you’ll be at home…and who really cares if your panties are on inside out at home?

What to take a guess at my course of action? Well, knowing what you know about my energy level on Tuesday I think that you’d be safe to assume that I left those puppies just like they were. They weren’t hurting anything. And you couldn’t tell from the outside of my clothes that my panties were on inside out. Only I knew. And now all of you.

Because we can all use a good laugh every now and then. Go ahead, you can laugh at me. I did, that’s for sure!

I mean, who puts their panties on inside out except for drunk, college girls? Apparently moms who aren’t getting any sleep do! Or better yet – who doesn’t notice until almost 3 o’clock in the afternoon? It’s not like I hadn’t gone to the bathroom 3 or 4 other times that day…I had…and I didn’t notice.

Yeah. That’s when you know you’re tired. That’s when it might be a good idea to try to go to bed a few minutes earlier. Or to wear some ear plugs. Or to suggest to the husband that it’s HIS night on baby duty…any of those options will help you get your panties on correctly the next day.

Then again, I didn’t do any of those things Tuesday night. But you can bet money that I took an extra 30 seconds Wednesday morning to make sure that I had them on right side out this time!! LOL!

What crazy thing have you done when you were going through a sleepy phase? Surely I’m not the only one to have a “wardrobe malfunction” or make cereal with coffee instead of milk or something equally as funny…share with us and we’ll all have a laugh!

Best Valentine’s Day EVER!

Oh goodness…it just keeps getting better. No, now don’t start feeling queasy or anything, I’m not about to get mushy. I promise. Although I do love my husband and feel like I’m the luckiest woman in the world, I won’t bore you with all of that. Some guys start V-Day big when you’re first dating and then it falls by the wayside (like other aspects of romance) after you’ve been together for a while. Well, this is the fourth V-Day that Brent and I have spent together…and it just keeps getting better.

Not that he outdid himself.  Not that we enjoyed a romantic dinner for two and everything was all hearts and flowers.  Here’s what made it special to me…I laughed so hard that I nearly peed in my pants.

Yeah, you read that right. But come on, be honest with yourself…you had to know something like that was coming…this is ME!

I seriously can’t remember the last time that I have laughed as much, as loud, or as long…and my husband made it all possible. Let me tell you about it.

We typically have at least one of the kids on V-Day. Some years, it’s been just T, sometimes just Jenna…very rarely is it just Brent and me. But either way, kids or no kids, Brent goes out of his way to make the night special for me. He always sends me flowers. And he always takes me out to eat. Every single year. And just like the creatures of habit that we tend to be, we always go to the Texas Land & Cattle restaurant. I don’t know why…no, that’s not true. I do know why. It’s one of our favorite restaurants – the food is always good, even if the service lacks a bit…and it’s a little pricier than the normal places that we eat out at (think Chick-Fil-A, Whataburger and Taco Cabana)

So it’s sort of our V-Day place. Rain or shine, cold or hot, kids or no kids, that’s where we go. This year was no different. We knew that we would have Jax and Jenna, so the reservation was made for a party of 3.5. I received flowers, chocolates, a small teddy bear, and a bath set at my office earlier in the day to start the day off right and make me feel special.

We had arranged everything around Jax’s schedule, because let’s be honest here…he’s the most important part of making last night a success or a failure. If he was having a bad night, then we would all have a bad night. And vice versa.  Although we didn’t time the commute back to town quite right, and arrived almost an hour before our reservations, we killed some time carefully strolling up and down the aisles of a local grocery store trying to let Jax finish his evening nap. Let’s face it, things go better after a baby gets a nap, right? He woke up right before we were going to walk over to the restaurant and was in a great mood for most of dinner.

I say most, because he’s a baby and he can only be good for so long. Especially not in a high chair when there is so much going on around him. Since it was a busy night, service was a bit slow…which led to a few moments of panic here and there as we wondered if he was fixin’ to start a big scream-fest. I mean come on, if a parent with a small child asks for more bread, do you think that she’s asking for herself? Same goes when she quizzes you about the size of all of your spoons for almost two full minutes, settling on one specific option and has baby food jars on the table…I shouldn’t have to ask twice. You should want to help me keep the peace by providing me with those items right away…but maybe that’s just me.

Either way we had an enjoyable dinner. Everyone got to eat some of their food while it was hot. Jenna only complained a little bit about the “spicy-ness” of her food…problem solved by me trading steaks with her. Jax only started to throw a fit in between jars of baby food when I was trying to snag a few bites of my garlic mashed potatoes. And he only got antsy towards the end of the meal when we were all pretty much done and just waiting for the dessert menu and our bill.

Here’s where the funny parts come in. When he started to fuss a bit, Brent took him out of the high chair and tried to entertain him. Well, it sort of worked. He was entertained up to a point, and then he started to entertain us. At the point when he got tired of Brent’s antics, he started to protest in his baby chatter. When he was ignored he got louder. You see where this is going, right?

He got louder…and louder…and louder. Other people were starting to look around. It wasn’t crying…they were just trying to see what on earth was happening to the child that was babbling so loudly. So to make him be quiet, Brent blew in his face. This had two effects: 1) it did make Jax be quiet momentarily and 2) when he got quiet he was making the most comical face we’ve ever seen him make. Sort of like when babies are first exposed to wind and they freak out a little. Except add in a little “what the hell?” look to it. Less startlement and more “Dude!”. As soon as he recovered because the breath blown in his face was just until he got quiet, the baby chatter came back. Just as loudly as before.

Which triggered another breath to the face. Which was followed by another comical look…you get the pattern, right?  Repeat said pattern about a hundred thirty-two times.

Well, pretty soon we (Brent, myself and Jenna) were laughing so hard that the people who had previously been craning their heads around to see what Jax was doing were now looking to see what those crazy fools were laughing so loudly at. And it was contagious. Before long, the table that could see Jax the best was giggling and pointing…and it spread through our entire little area of the restaurant.

Needless to say, we ordered our desserts “To Go” just to make sure that we didn’t overstay our welcome.

And here’s where the peeing in my pants comes in. Keeping in mind that I’m already in a giggly sort of mood from the antics inside the restaurant, we walk outside and head around the back of the restaurant to where we parked. At this point, I ask Brent how his pants were fitting.

Oh wait, let me back up. Remember this post about men losing weight faster than women? Well, it’s still going on. And he forgot his belt yesterday when he went to work, so his pants were…a little…baggy. And by a little, I mean a lot. Think teenage, punk, hipster style…you know the one that I’m talking about…where you purposely wear your best and brightest boxers because everyone’s bound to see them? Got it in your mind? Well, now put my husband’s face on that mental image. And you’ve got the sight that I was walking behind. He’s carrying Jax, I’ve got the diaper bag/purse and Jenna has our leftover bag and in response to my question, he raises his shirt up.

So that I can see that his pants are halfway down his butt, just barely staying up…and his black underwear is showing. Nice.  I jokingly tell him that if he’s having such a problem keeping them up then he needs to walk like those young punks that we’re always making fun of walk to keep their pants up.

And. He. Does.

The whole rest of the way to the car.

I had to stop several times for laughing so hard. He’s carrying a baby, walking with his feet spread at least a yard and a half apart, stopping every few feet to yank up his “britches” again…and I lost it. Just way, way, way too funny.  I wish that I had thought to snap a picture with my phone! 

As I kissed him goodnight that night, I thanked him for the best Valentine’s Day ever. He questioned my sanity for thinking that it was the best one ever, but my answer to him stays the same: “I’ve never laughed so hard and had so much fun on a Valentine’s date before! It was perfect.”

Thanks honey – you’re one in a million!