February 19, 2008

Put Me In A Straight-Jacket and Institutionalize Me

Okay, so I realize, much to DJ's chagrin, that I've outed myself to you people as being completely insane. On more than one occassion. But I really, seriously, truly need to be tossed into the Looney Bin. That's probably not politically correct. The Crazy House? No, that doesn't work either. The Insane Asylum? Do those even still exist? Okay, whatever. You get the point.

But after last night, it's been reconfirmed. Sign it, Stamp it, Certify it and stick it in the mail. I'm Certifiable.

It all started out innocently enough.

Put Zach to bed. Check. Sleeping soundly, no wheezing, hacking or visible discomfort.

Put Dylan to bed. Check. "I don't need a book" means I just want to go to sleep. Fine. "Good night. No Bugs. See you in the Mornin!"

Cut to 3:00am. I'm awakened by something. I'm not sure what, just something. I listen. It's hard to hear over DJ's snoring breathing (he's still stuffy). Then I hear it. Dylan coughing. No, HACKING. Bad. Like, really bad. I jump out of bed and race to his room. Um, no. He's sound asleep. Doesn't even wake up when I go bounding in there.

Okay, back to bed. I must have been dreaming and it woke me up and I was uneasy from the dream and was still half (or 3/4) asleep and thought I heard something, but I really didn't and I need to just forget about it and go back to sleep. Nothing to see here, folks. Head on pillow, eyes closed. Almost asleep.

Again, there's something. I roll over, sit up and listen. Definitely, something. Coming from outside, maybe? It sounds like someone screaming, crying. A toddler? Outside at 3:00am in the 40 degree weather? No. Maybe? I open my window and listen. Muffled freeway noises. Night noises. "You're hearing things" I tell myself. There are no abandoned children wailing outside your house in the middle of the night. "But" I think, "remember that urban legend about the murderer who plays a recording of a baby crying to get people to open their doors and then he attacks and kills them. What if it's that? What if it's NOT that and someone has ACTUALLY left a baby outside my door. Clearly, they've seen my awesome parenting skills and have chosen ME as the best person to raise their child." CLEARLY, the don't read this blog. There is no noise, there is no abandoned child, there is no serial killer playing tapes of crying babies. Just my imagination, once again running wild. So, back to bed. Again.

Again, something. My attention is drawn to the baby monitor. ZACH! OMG, It's Zach! I, literally, FLY out of bed and into his room. He's lying there, asleep, making these creepy little moaney-type noises upon every exhale. HOLY SHIT. There must be something wrong with him. Some terrible case of RSV, newly developed from his little innocent cough. His lungs don't work and he can't get enough air. (Mind you, I JUST commented to Mrs. Flinger that RSV is not nearly as dangerous in older babies as it is in little newborns, but that realistic outlook doesn't cross my mind at 3:15 in the morning. Or when it's my child. DUH, I'm prone to freaking out.) So I turn on the hallway light, pick my baby up and inspect him. Blue lips? No. Bluish fingernails? No. He starts to fuss. Oh, shit. I'm waking him up. Insert pacifier. He fidgets, opens his eyes. Looks at me like "Where the hell did you come from?" and gives me a little smile. I sit down with him in the rocking chair and get him back to sleep, all the while I monitor his breathing for any irregularities. There are none, save for the occassional moaney-type noise upon exhale and occassional little cough. Put him back to bed. Watch him for a few minutes to make sure he's fine. Go back to bed myself. Lie there, thinking about the HUGE probability that he's going to stop breathing at ANY MOMENT and return to his room to bring him to bed with me. At least I can keep my eye on him, and in the event of his imminent death, I can be there for CPR until the paramedics arrive.

So what happens? I bring him to bed with me, he sleeps. And BREATHES . I lie there, wide awake. Still freaked out about the serial killer and the abandoned child. Once I forget about those things, I start to think about, what else? BLOGGING. Holy shit, people. I laid there, in bed, with my breathing child, at 3:30 AM, and thought about how I would relay this whole incident to you, the internets. Really, I did. For, like, an hour maybe. I kid you not.

Now, if thinking there was a serial killer playing the sound of a crying baby, or that someone would actually PICK me to raise their abandoned child, OR that I was convinced my baby was about to die because he was making a kinda funny noise WHILE BREATHING, if all that wasn't enough evidence to prove that I need to be committed, surely the fact that I laid in bed and wrote my blog post IN MY HEAD about the whole situation is proof enough. Yes?

All I can say is that I hope they have wireless interent in the psychiatric hospital.

Oh, and this post was much more amusing in my head in the middle of the night than it is right now. Why is that?

16 comments:

papa-oomau-al said...

Actually, it's quite amusing right now!

How does asylum commitment work, exactly? Does DJ request it, and then line up witnesses? Based on your large readership, he'll have plenty...

Feener said...

i hate to admit it, but i do the think about bloggin in mid of night or mid of important things all the time. i feel like such a loser when i do it.

Tootsie Farklepants said...

I blog in my head in the wee hours too. Sometimes I'll get up and write it down before I forget it. And also? Now I'm freaked out about the baby tape urban legend. Thanks.

Cathy said...

Oh...that was very amusing. Very.
I think about blogging all the time. I write my Friday Haikus in my head - usually while nursing or rocking a the Baby to sleep.

Quart said...

This website is all eff'd up tonight. I just tried to post a wonderfully witty comment and it crapped out on me. It was basically along the lines of this: you're right - you totally don't need to worry about anyone abandoning ther child at your door.

papa-oomau-al said...

Now THAT'S funny!

Pink Lemonade said...

your post was funny then and it is funny now!!

Christy said...

You crack me up! I love that you stayed up to compose a blog post in her head! Too funny.

Loralee Choate said...

I got up five times swearing my cat was mewing to go outside. NOPE.

Have no idea how it happened. By the time that she really DID have to go out, I wanted to throw my freaking pillow at her.

JCK said...

Yeah, I had never heard about this baby tape thing. THANKS A LOT!

I blog in my head in the wee hours, too. I guess we're all looney tunes. But, you're the one writing about it and admiting it! LOL

Mrs. Flinger said...

Oh, honey, if that makes you crazy then I've been on that bandwagon for eeons. :-) I'm glad he's ok. And it's always nice to have a lovely freak out for the blog. Heh.

jennifer h said...

Oh, no, it's still amusing! (Also, if you read my post today, you'll know I wrote my own post hours and hours ago in my head...)

And I'm never answering my door in the middle of the night. Or maybe any other time.

P.S. A mental hospital sounds like a very nice vacation, if you ask me.

EatPlayLove said...

I am impressed you actually remembered all those details from 3:15 am! I always have the middle of the night blogging inspiration and pretty much forget everything by morning.

I find it very strange when blogging permeates my thoughts at all hours of the day--I can't escape it!

Lulu said...

It's 12:37pm, and I think that it's amusing. Well, kind of sad, but totally amusing. I would have been freaked out, too, and at the same time wondering how I could blog about such an incident.

The internets will do creepy things to your mind...especially making you worry about urban legends, and then making you want to blog about it. It's a cult, I tell ya.

HRH said...

Now, if you were really going to do it up right, you would have grabbed your CAMERA in the middle of the night to photograph the abandoned baby or the night stalker or your children breathing.... Next time I want pictures.
Maybe we can share a room there...

MommyTime said...

Actually, it's darn hilarious right now too. Thanks for the giggle.