In which your humble narrator rambles incoherently about babies and fantasy phone calls and sink drains and then compares himself to a popular television program from late in the previous century.
Child #2 was sleeping through the night three weeks ago. I'm pretty sure she was. I vaguely remember being able to engage in logical processing. For a week now she's been completely weird at night. She wakes up every two hours. She thinks it's time to get up for the day at 4:00 a.m. She cries in her sleep without waking up.
All of these charming idiosyncrasies of slumber have led to me not having more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep in about a week. And the stupid is taking over my brain. I've become clumsy. I cut my finger on a vegetable peeler. I keep spending the day worrying about returning phone calls that I received in my dreams. Also, I keep starting weird projects with a feverish urgency. Today, I unstopped the slow-draining upstairs bathroom sink with a bent bobby pin, a coat hanger and a baby bath tub. Child #1 watched from outside the door, looking at me like I was completely nuts. Maybe. Or maybe I'm MacGyver. Or maybe I need a nap.
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