Seby thought it would be a good idea to wake up at 2am to "talk" (which is really just very loud squawking with the long A sound - Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuhhhhh) to tell us that he wanted to play.
Of all the nights for him to wake up and
Why? Because at 9am this morning Mommy had a super important meeting that she's been planning for, with her Boss's Boss's Boss's Boss and his Boss.
Yeah, you get the drift. I see this person twice a year, and it's for these bi-annual meetings, and I'm the presenter.
Son, I love you, very VERY much. I know this because other parents would have knocked you out with Benadryl, but nope, not us. Instead I wander into the living room with the baby monitor on so I can still hear you. Thanks hubby, for being a genius and pulling out the sofa bed last night just for this occurrence.
It's 6:45 AM and my alarm goes off, but really I've been awake for the past 3 hours listening to his attempts at singing about birds. He's really good I gotta say, he may have a career as a soprano in an opera. Now if only we can get him to remember he has feet...
I zombie walk back into our room and see him sitting up in his crib. That sight still scares me because I'm not used to it. It's only been 2 months since he has learned how to manipulate his muscles enough to learn how to sit up completely on his own, and I don't think that will ever get old.
I have this whole speech planed out in my head of what I'm gonna say to him too, because well I've had about 4 or so hours to think about it:
"Son, WHY can't you do this for the Speech Therapist when you see her twice a week?!?!! You say nothing, not a word, and they look at me as if I'm crazy when I tell them that you DO make sounds. They think you're mute, but I know you're not, you just save it for 2am every other Tuesday and Friday, which I gotta say at least you're consistent. So when you see Mrs. Vicki today, please say something, anything really, but Thank You is acceptable."
As I look down into his crib, Seby looks up at me and immediately puts his arms up for me to pick him up. My kid can't talk but he really knows how to play his Mother. It's 6:50AM and I have to be ready to leave in about 30 mins. I'm smart enough to know though, before I walk into our room, to make sure I have a bottle in my hand.
I have to prop the bottle on a blanket because he hasn't mastered the act of holding it yet. To be honest, he's not really anywhere close (we've been working on it though!).
I start getting ready in the bathroom and I noticed that he hasn't said a peep since I gave him his bottle. Ok, so I guess he fell back asleep, Rob is gonna be so happy... wait... SHIT! I forgot he's still vomiting his entire bottle. What the HELL was I THINKING?!?!
I run back into the bedroom and of course trip on 50 thousand things in the process. WHY does every single object or shoe, or dispenser you have ever owned get in your way when you are trying to get somewhere as fast as possible? I am really starting to believe that my hallway has a wormhole. I run in and notice him on his side. I pick him up to look at him since it was too dark and didn't even think about turning on the friggin light.
You see this is what happens when I'm on a couple of hours sleep.
He didn't throw up, thank God, and for a second he's confused because Wow Mom, that was super fast holy cow!!
I give him a hug and he looks down at the floor and starts kicking his legs. I notice his tiger is on the floor.
"Oh sweetie you dropped your tiger. I'm Sorry" I give him a kiss on his head and I put him back in his crib. I bend over and pick up his tiger.
"Here you go baby. Now take a nap". I turn around and finish getting ready for work.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh"
.....You're Welcome, Son.
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