Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...

Monday, June 20, 2011

Too Tired -- Must Find Soft Place To Die

Why don't little children love sleep?  Why don't they treasure sleep, and revel in it as only a burnt-out adult can?  Is sleep really that unimportant when you're a kid?  Is the world so filled with promise and HOPPING BUNNIES wonder that you just don't want to miss a single FREAKING minute of it?!? 

My girlie, as you may have heard me rant before, gets up at stupid times.  She gets up so early that she makes herself tired for the rest of the day.  Yes, that's right:  she RUINS HERSELF BY GETTING UP so facking early. 

Recently the kids had a sleepover at their grandparents'.  What time did Ella wake up?  4:00 AM, my friends.  Did she fall back to sleep?  Nope.  Did she have a monstrous nap later that day when she could no longer fight it?  Oh yes she did.  4:00 AM, incidentally, is stupid.

So, this weekend was busy.  On Saturday my brother had two free tickets for a very frou-frou, hoity-toity, la-dee-da wine and fancy food event.  It was held in a gorgeous 5000 degree F vineyard.  The basic idea is that the rest of the shmucks forked out 75 bones, to enjoy as much free wine samples as one could handle, and food made by chefs who are clearly jerks.  Yes, I'm talking about YOU, arrogant prick who masterfully paired prawns with strawberry salsa:  p.s. a compliment from a PLEBE is still a compliment a$$hole. 

Ahem.  Anyhoo, that event was class all the way.  Plus, what makes me happier than alcohol? 

Answer:  NOTHING. 

So, we ate:

* a couple of snacky plates of this fantastic fancy cheese assortment, and some really yummy seed-encrusted flat bread triangles

*  a tiny gourmet burger with fancy salsa and a side salad with WHEAT BERRIES in it...what are wheat berries?!?  Still, very interesting. 

*A GENIUS teeny sandwich that had some grilled chicken AND beef with some kind of chef-y sauce and really fun greens

*prawns with cornbread and strawberry brother joked that it was "strawberry shortcake with prawns" which made me want to throw up a little, but actually it was quite remarkably good, even if it did have a whisper of CILANTRO, A.K.A.: THE WORLD'S MOST HEINOUS HERB

* a teeny pulled pork sandwich, with some really, really good homemade baked beans.  Had a bit of trouble with this part, as the fully roasted PIG was RIGHT THERE, with a pan of its own shreddy meat sitting under it.  Shudder.  Turn your brain off, karen.  Turn your hypocritical, carnivorous/animal respecting brain off

* some BLECH arctic char salad thingy.  Okay, first of all, I'm IFFY on fish.  VERY IFFY.  If it's not THOROUGHLY COOKED, it makes me want to YARK.  I don't care if 'perfectly cooked' means just slightly undercooked.  I do NOT want my little crumpet of fish to melt in my mouth like butter.  Like fishy butter, with salad dressing on it.  HURK HURK HURK.  Like fishy butter on top of those stupid 'mesclun greens' that everyone thinks makes them sophisticated by serving, but it really, really reminds me of being a kid and trying to eat grass, because cows eat grass, so why can't we, and it reminds me of that grass, only more BITTER and unpleasant, but with a slightly better texture. 

* BEAUCOUP DU VIN  (that's "piggish amounts of wine," for my anglophone buddies)

So, while all the snacking kept me from being anywhere near tipsy, it did give me a gift later, at around 1:30 in the morning:  INDIGESTION.  Yeah, the good kind, in which my heart is like a fist pounding on a table, and I have to bargain with the fates not to die. 


Sunday, of course, was father's day.  After a terrible night's sleep, waiting for the indigestion/ensuing panic attack to die down, and elbowing that snoring idiot next to me several times, I prob. didn't get to sleep till 4.  So, for Father's Day, I made a fancy french toast breakfast, cleaned that up, baked two pies, 6 mini jam tarts (leftover pie dough, yo), and buttertart squares so magnificent, I astound myself.  Then I cleaned all THAT up, made the kids lunch, and FINALLY, FINALLY made it outside to plant my hundred dollars worth of flowers. 


Then my brother, sister, brother-in-law, my nieces and my Dad came over and we had takeout food and CHAOS, and fun.  And really bitchin' baked goods.  I don't fool around people.  When I taste stuff made by a bakery, more likely than not, while you're raving about it, I'm going to be sneering at it just a tiny bit:  especially if it has pastry.  I'm a pastry motherf*cking genius. 

So, I was wicked tired, and even was IN BED before 10:30.  But Ella, my tiny love, decided that she'd just be awake from 1 until 2.  AWESOME. 

And here I am today, like the trampled, dog-poop covered, wrinkled towel that I am, and I have to:

* put away all the beer bottles

* clean up kitchen

* do approximately 50 loads of laundry

* clean up this pantry

* change sheets

* turn BARBIE TOWN back into my living room

* get the balls to finally face that bag of wet clothes that were also peed in, because hey, if you're running around in the hose, you just wizz your clothes, right?  Right? 

Eff it.  I'm making coffee. 

How was your weekend? 


  1. I have been having trouble commenting you blog lately. I'm sure it's the man keeping me down, but wanted you to know you've been read, laughed with, and head nodded to agreement justly.

    The 7 yr old , Bug, is either going to be a farmer or Wall St commodities broker when she grows up. Kid can't make it past 6am even on the weekends. I relate.

    oh, and lust is love, right? right?

  2. 'soft place to die'. That's the name for your book. Certainly. I am as certain as I am tempted to find that soft place to die.

    oh, yeah. the blog entry was good too.

    Here's a dangerous question. Are you able to train your daugther to pick up her own barbies? Just one less thing for you to do.

  3. gabe used to get up at ungodly hours too, then we got him a clock, and told him not to get up until it says 7. it actually worked!maybe come up with a really good punishment for getting up so early, hmmm i have to get in mean mom mode for that. as for the wine thingy, sometimes it's just better to stay home with good friends, a bottle of scotch and some doritos!

  4. Here's a trick for my dog pooped princessy friend, it goes like this:
    "Kids, here are two bags. One for you, and one for you. Whatever toys aren't in the bag and find their home in the next hour are being donated. See you in an hour." The very first time Barbie is missing her stiletto pump I promise it will never happen again. Bonus: bag # 3 is where everything they don't want to pick up ever again goes. Take #3 to the donation bin and give them a dollar if it's full.
    On the sleep problem: we don't have that one here, but I did know a mom a who worked long hours at a financial company that paid her kids $5.00 if they stayed in their beds/rooms quietly until at least 8 a.m. on the weekends. You might spend a little green, but you'd get some sleep. Money has a magical quality : )
    I love your messing around with language! YACK says it all!

  5. Great! It's 6a.m. and I'm totally stressed reading your post. Next time put up a warning, okay?
    But you're right, I can eat pork but I'd rather not see the pig.
    Your Friend, m.

  6. I am going to post my lamest comment in the history of my commenting right here, right now because I'm so fucking tired and in a fog from drinking too much EXCELLENT PINOT NOIR last night. If you're a pinot fan (which I normally am not), you will love this: Stoneleigh Pinot, 2009, from Marlborough, New Zealand. It was our anniversary. Anyway -- I'm now shamed by your pastry talents. I don't even understand pastry dough. I wish that I did, and after reading your post, I wish it more than ever.

    I have a kid who refuses to go the fuck to sleep. Every night is an anxiety attack about all the shit she doesn't think about during the day because she's compulsive about staying busy every freakin' minute. So when she slows down for the night, instead of winding down, her mind winds up and she freaks. Sigh. And that's when I put on my therapist's hat. Or my really impatient "Mommy just wants one, ONE hour to do mommy things! I have a mountain of laundry and I just want to watch ONE hour of shitty television and sit my ass on the couch... PlEASE PLEASE PLEASE go to sleep!" hat. Either way, most nights are a lose-lose proposition for me. I can be a good parent but have no time for myself AT ALL, or I can be a bad parent and feel guilty.

    My daughter finally has learned to sleep in a little. My son, not so much. At some point, you'll have to give your daughter some rules like that she has to stay in her own room until a certain time (digital clocks are good if your kid is little, I just tell them if that first number is anything less than a 6, STAY IN YOUR ROOM, even if it's to play quietly.) If they're into cuddling, then tell them to just quietly come get in bed with you and keep quiet! Or... you could just continue to go (not so) quietly crazy and wait until the phase passes, or she can just turn on the tv herself and get herself a bowl of cereal.

    Just be grateful you can still drink a lot of coffee, whereas I'm stuck sucking it up and trying to get by with tea, (seriously! tea? wtf, britain? it is like the sad, pathetic cousin coffee, how do you build an entire culture around it??)since my reflux and my other stomach issues have pretty much forced me to relegate coffee to a once in a while treat instead of the life-sustaining force that it used to be for me. Actually, more of a coping mechanism.

    I hate my husband on the days when we both wake up early and exhausted and he gets to have some freakin' coffee in the morning... and then later in the morning... and then again in the afternoon... and I DO NOT. And I LOATHE HIM.

    There. Done. Kids are awake now. Daughter already stumbled into my office whining and bitching about how she wants to "sleep in" during the summer and not go to camp. I countered with "see? this is why I told you to go to bed earlier. then you could wake up at the same time as you did today, but not feel so lousy and be so cranky." But that logic doesn't play with an irritable almost-10 yr old. Instead, her logic says: My mom is the devil. My life sucks. I'm gonna go watch Teen Nick at 7:30 freakin' a.m. and hope she doesn't notice and come into the family room ranting about me watching mind-numbing tv shows.

    Sigh. Have an awesome day. As for my weekend... who can remember that far back?

  7. I am single mom. I work occasional third shifts from home and am on call 50% of the time. Our rule is - do not wake me up in the morning. Our alarm system is set, no one can get in or out of the doors or windows ;) let me sleep. If they don't wake me up, they can play as many video games as they want and it doesn't count against their daily allotment.
    It works. :D Oldest son is 12 and I usually have to drag him out of bed by 11 now. Good times.

    I did the garbage bag thing with the toys. Except I locked them up and they had to do a chore to earn back each toy - and it was their initiative to come and ask for a chore.

  8. You are so hilarious as always! Have you seen the book, Go the F*ck to Sleep on the internet or facebook. It is hysterically funny and you can even watch it read aloud by Samuel Jackson. So funny, I highly recommend it! Hang in there. and I REALLY hope and pray that my child likes to sleep, please, OH PLEASE!!!!

  9. When I was a boy I hated the idea of napping and would never even consider it. As an adult there is no greater thought than: NAP TIME!

  10. hey jdracer, if you are expecting a wee one and want them to sleep throught the night by 12 weeks, geet 'on becoming babywise' its awsome!!! if you do it, it will work.our kids slept 12 hours straight,one at 3 mo. and the other at 2mo. seriously, this will save your sanity!!

  11. It did not include wheat berries, strawberry salsa, or arctic char. Or antarctic char. Or Sairy Gamp, who, I believe, was a char.

    Please tell your daughter that I get up about 4 every day, by metabolism, not choice, so someday she too may be an immortal poet. Tell her I feel bad for her and wish something better for her. A plateful of Sairy Gamp, perhaps.

  12. Lance, maybe it's a HATE relationaship between BLOGGER and Wordpress? Or, maybe your move to wordpress was JUSTIFIED by the myriad annoying teeny glitches in blogger...

    I have never been an early riser, I don't think. For as long as I can recall, I loved sleep.

  13. well here's a question for YOU, Matt: are YOU able to train my daughter to pick up her toys? Fifty bucks. Fifty bucks that you didn't already have, my friend. Actually, when she's in a nice frame of mind she'll pick up her toys and even make her little bed. Jack, on the other hand is hopeless.

    You liked that title eh? It'll be the title of the book that is really well liked by the critics, but hated by all highschool students forced to study it.

  14. Paula, I've tried the clock. The CLOCK is sitting on Ella's dresser, happily proclaiming the time right now. She doesn't care. If it's -20 outside, and still black as night, and she thinks it's morning, she'll just roll on out of bed.

    p.s. No to scotch, smoochy yes to rye.

  15. Christina, those are all excellent strategies, however, Ella hasn't learned to LURV money yet. Must instill a good healthy sense of capitalism in her...

  16. but if you're up at that time, and happy, Mark, you have nothing to fear!

    Yeah, I'd rather not see what my food looked like when it used to run around happily before it was turned into a sandwich too.

  17. Minka, woman, just email me sometime and I'll whisper to you the secrets of good pastry.

    Jack can't fall asleep at night--even if he's exhausted. He lies in his bed though from 8:30 till sometimes 10 when he finally can sleep and doesn't bug me, but still, I feel for the kid.

    As for the pinot, I'm a cabernet girl, if I too can stand the acid, and speaking of acid--I only have one cup of half caff coffee in the morning, and maybe, maybe one in the afternoon if I'm dying and that's it.

  18. Lisa, you've got it down to a science. Still, my kids are young, and still at the "little buggers" age, whereby they laugh at my rage. This too shall pass.

    Hmm..good strategy about the toys...I wonder if any of you can imagine just how LOUD Ella can be...

  19. jd, I did hear a bit of that. I like Samuel L's version best :)

    Oh JD, what you don't realise is that fate is preparing you NOW to not have as much sleep again until your child is maybe in school. Although, I could be wrong, and you could have one of those wonderbabies. Jack was an excellent sleeper/napper.

  20. Laoch is right. The only thing better than sleeping/napping is...


    maybe nothing.

  21. well that was kind of you, anonymous :)

  22. Richard, what a pleasant surprise :)

    Well, if you're going to be an artist or an immortal poet, than sure, get up early. Just don't wake me. Now I have to google Sairy Gamp.

  23. "Sairey Gamp" is a character in the Charles Dickens novel, "Martin Chuzzlewit."

    She is a gin-drinking, gossiping midwife who uses colorful, high-blown language. Dickens portrays her as a fraud and a hypocrite, but also obviously enjoys his comedic portrait of this figure.


    Oh brother.

  25. $50, eh? hmmm. With the garbage bag concepts, it would seem that you will be able to keep your money.

    Forget high school students, your book will be part of the undergrad curriculum.

    Just remember, 'Soft Place To Die' ...I need to be mentioned in your dedication. Let me write it for you:
    Dedicated to Matt, my smartest, most inspirational, witty, creative, genious of a friend. Your humility and contemplative reserved nature, perfectly balanced with agreeable social graces, gave me everything I needed in titling this book. Forever impressed, Karen.

  26. FOREVER IMPRESSED!!!!!!! Matt, that was the best part of the whole "dedication." I have to work that into the title bar of my blog somehow--what do you think; instead of the bit about being a malcontent, I'll write that I'm FOREVER IMPRESSED

  27. That sounds like a good deal. :) :)


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