Who Really Needs Sleep?

Things to do when your three month old wakes up four times between the hours of 12 am and 4:30 am:
1. Cry
2. Chew gum
3. Get excited for breakfast
4. Want to cry but not cry
5. Be grateful that hopefully you will be able to someday make another mom feel better when you tell her that your child slept horribly, too

I guess I will never be one of those moms I have met who has so pleasantly told me, "My little baby slept through the night at six weeks." I really want to tell these women to shut up.

Even if Benjamin did sleep through the night (and sleeping through the night means 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep), I wouldn't brag about it. It's not like I really would have anything to do with it if he did.

On a happier note...

I have become much better about turning the fan off in the bathroom as Charley has asked me to do. Of course yesterday, I managed to turn off the television and all three radios I had on at the same time in different rooms just before he came in the door.

World's Biggest Ball O' Paper Towel

Since having Ben I have realized how wasteful I am, and that the earth is indeed limited in its capacity to store my garbage.

I have a paper towel addiction. I go though paper towels like smokers do cigarettes. Easily a roll a day if I let myself get carried away. Every time I see anything that resembles dirt or a stain I paper towel it.

I've started saving these towels. If they are not too dirty, say I only had to wipe up a little coffee stain, I put it in a drawer with its counterparts. It still has two, maybe three, more wipes in it.

Ideally, I will remember that I have a drawer filled with these little jewels, and I will reach into it the next time I see a spill.

As of now, I keep forgetting they are there, and instead have a quickly growing collection of hardly soiled paper towels which I will probably feel too guilty to throw away until Charley makes me.

Parking Spots in the Kitchen

Charley and I were talking about a mutual friend who has been living with a woman for over a year. They are not romantically involved, but I said that they were basically like a couple in their 5th or sixth year of marriage- familiar, comfortable and predictable. Charley disagreed and pointed out that they get annoyed with each other all the time.

And how is that not like a married couple?

The rest of conversation went as follows:

ME: "So you're not annoyed when I put salt on my yogurt and my bagel?" I asked him.

C: "I think it is just silly."

ME: "And your not annoyed when I sweep all the dirt into a little corner in the kitchen and let it sit there for two days before throwing it away?" I asked.

C: "No. that's your parking spot for it all."

Me: "And you don't mind that I have to sleep with a fan on?"

C: "I don't even here it anymore."

ME: "And it doesn't bug you that I put way too many clothes in the washing machine when I do the wash?"

C: "You do that??"

ME: "Yes."

He did say that I needed to work on turning the lights off when I was not using them. I think I've been grossly misreading his reactions to my behavior.

Helmets Aren't Just for Kids

I used to think I was not a control freak. Since I've been married, Charley has pointed out that I may have some issues involving the word "control". These issues have leached into many areas of my life, including the most basic cuddle positions.

I am acutely aware of the status of my bangs during the day, and anything that jeopardizes their shape is to be avoided.

Charley refers to my bangs as my hair helmet. I do go a little crazy with the hairspray, but I am a child of the 80s and have carried the tradition of perfectly coiffed bangs (as I see them) into the 21st century.

When cuddling on the coach now, Charley avoids my bangs, for his own safety. I would never lash out at him for disturbing their shape, but they do have some very sharp edges.