Olivia has decided that she doesn't want to sleep. Ever. At all. Even a little. Especially not AT NIGHT! Heavens no!
Lack of sleep makes me a special combination of bitchy and delusional.
For example. I went to the mall this week. Because I hadn't been to baby Gap in days and the skin around my neck was starting to itch from the itty bitty baby retail withdrawal. I was looking a little like Tyrone Biggums*, except my mouth was lined in powdered sugar and I mumbled "gap" in my sleep instead of "crack".
I like to park at the food court. I love the mall food court...
Which reminds me of the time that my grandpa called my grandma a cafeteria chow hound, for whatever reason, and I enjoy that phrase because it is funny and I think it kind of runs in the family. I was always a huge bitch in high school whenever someone would cut in the lunch line. Because there were only so many tater tots and peanut butter squares, and if I missed out on one because of some line-cutting bastard? Well, let's just say I'll cut a bitch if a peanut butter square is on the line.
So. Anyway. I parked at the food court, which leads directly to baby Gap like some sort of delicious smelling yellow brick road. Kizmet? I think so.
Much like Dorothy, I have to make my way through a crowd of assholes just to get to the itty bitty clothes for my sleepless little preshus. At the mall food court, there are these people! Who are trying to give out samples! OH MY GAH! Chinese food! Steak sandwiches! Pretzels! PIZZA!
The guy at the Chinese place must have been feeling particularly snarky that day and decided from the second that I walked in through the sliding doors that I was going to eat a god damned piece of chicken if it was the last thing he accomplished on this earth. Like a suicide bomber in the Chinese restaurant niche. Either that, or he had a competition going with the other sample people.
Chicken Guy: Hey! Free Sample!
Me: (smile) Oh, no thank you. (stares directly at baby Gap; eye on the prize.)
CG: Yes! Sample! Is delicious!
Me: ..... (rage)
* at this point, I have passed him, and now every time he talks to me, I have to turn around to tell him to shove his chicken up his ass. *
Me: No? Thank you? (preshus baybee onezeez NOM)
CG: Ah! Try this chicken! Meal for $5.99 includes rice!
Me: NO! THANK YOU! SERIOUSLY! (LOSING SHOPPING TIME!)
CG: Hey! Sample is free! Just try!
Me: (Considers walking back and slapping the bottom of his tray so that the free chicken flies in his face. Best case scenario? He gets a toothpick lodged in his cheek. Worst case scenario? He presses charges for toothpick injury, and I go to jail. Probably a bad idea, then.)
Me: (Wait! Jail wouldn't have babies. I could probably sleep. Perhaps even be someones bitch and get some uninterrupted cuddle time! Hmmm...this might not be bad. Decisions, decisions.)
Me: (OMFGZ! Is that a sign for 25% off sale prices at Gap?! This guy is totally lucky right now. I should tell him to play the lottery, except I hate him so I won't.)
Infuriating. But I did get a dress, a onesie, and three shirts for $15. You know, so I can dress Olivia up all night long while we are awake! A gal has to always look her best, right?!
I am totally drinking the Wonder Weeks kool-aid right now, because it is the only thing giving me hope that my little preshus will cut this sleep strike shit out. I need to review this book because it is AWESOME, another one I wish I had read before baby. It just tells you what is happening developmentally, and what to expect.
I think we're coming up on big week 24 - sleep problems, rolling all around, crying when I leave the room, a little bit of stranger danger, teething. Knowing this doesn't help anything, but it feels a little better to know there is a reason for my soul crushing exhaustion and satanic bitchiness.
We started rice cereal this week. Olivia is totally going to be a cafeteria chow hound, like many generations before her.
*God, I miss Dave Chappelle.