(with apologies to Walt Whitman)
It is Friday night, the kids are in bed, and the Guv is in Omaha. In fact, Dash told the father of one of Petunia's friends that "Daddy is living in Omaha." The dad chuckled and replied, "Watch it, kid, that's how rumors get started."
The truth is, the Guv is attending Michael Jackson's wedding. No, not THAT Michael Jackson, another one, a former college roommate -- one that has sexual proclivities that do not involve children. Thank God.
I'm bracing myself for a long weekend following a long week, as Dash has been eating poorly and sleeping worse all week. Tonight, I broke down and put him to sleep in my bed (I can see the Guv cringing in Omaha) so that I don't have to get up and run back and forth to his race car bed -- sleeping in it for several uncomfortable intervals -- all night. When you have a kid who doesn't eat then wakes up asking for his sippy cup of soy milk (a.k.a. FiFi) all night because he's hungry, you tend to get very tired and to do things like this to make the matter worse. It's a chicken and egg thing. If I take FiFi away at night, will he eat better during the day? We tried it. The answer is no, he doesn't eat better during the day, but he actually does seem to sleep better without FiFi breaks. Will taking FiFi away at night involve at least several sleepless nights on my part? Yes, and this is the part that I can't do when I'm already this tired -- another egg and chicken thing.
So, when the Guv decides that life in Omaha isn't for him, also known as next Tuesday, he and I can try to implement yet another action plan to strap the kid to his bed interest Dash in sleeping through the night in his race car bed. Alone. Without FiFi.
Or, I can always call in Grammy and join the Guv in Omaha. I have always wanted to see Nebraska, after all.
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