Resistance is Futile.


Ok, so as I’ve mentioned, my sleep study started yesterday, and, well, it was an interesting experience. They almost had me, but I resisted, and they let me go. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Tuesday night, after multiple anxiety moments, we left for the clinic. But not before I found myself faced with what can only be described as no-one-will-keep-my-children-alive-unless-I’m-overseeing-it moment. Cue the list I left for my dear husband. Thank heavens he’s good humored.

#1: Littlest needs 2 solid feedings a day, one at lunchtime, one at dinner. He gets cereal at noon, and his last feeding of the day he gets whatever baby food I’ve made. Seems reasonable right? He also gets a 6oz bottle afterwards. If he’s not getting solids, he’ll probably eat an 8oz bottle, but it’s imperative that we don’t waste formula by giving him an 8oz bottle when he’s only going to eat 6oz of it. Hubby: I thought he always got 6oz bottles. Clearly, I underestimated how much Hubby was paying attention, because it’s always easier to give him a smaller bottle and make more. Hubby: 1. Me: 0.

#2: Bedtime is 7pm. Hubby: looks at me. Considering that most of the time Hubby is the one helping me get both of the kids to bed, this one was probably obvious, but I sheepishly continue on with my list. Hubby: 2. Me: 0.

#3: Biggest’s snack is now at 10:00am, and it needs to be right at 10 so he’ll eat lunch and therefore eat dinner when he’s supposed to. Hubby: Did not know. (New timeline because Biggest doesn’t eat well if his meals are too far off the usual. I understand, because if you’re off of when you normally eat, you’re either past hungry, or still digesting). Hubby: 2. Me: 1.

#4: No baths necessary. Hubby: But Biggest needed one yesterday and I am fairly certain I caught a whiff of him, so I am going to give him one anyway. Ok, that’s fine. Littlest doesn’t need one though. Hubby: But if he smells bad, I’ll give him one. Don’t worry about it. Ok, but he flails a lot so you should make sure that you drain the tub before you pick him up, so you can get a better grip on him. Also he likes tepid water rather than the warm water Biggest liked when he was little. Hubby: Well, I did that for Biggest anyway, and don’t worry, I’ve given plenty of infant baths. He’s not going to drown. Ok, he really likes to wiggle though. Hubby: It’s ok Beth, I know how he likes to flail. Oh boy. Did that conversation really happen? I am seriously chagrined by this point, and I’m starting to become aware of the fact that not only am I making my hubby out to be an inexperienced babysitter, but I’m also translating all of my anxiety over the test into “My kids will be dead (or worse) when I return, and my husband will probably be too”. Hubby: 3. Me: 1.

#5: Laundry slot information. Something worth passing on, however, I provide hubby with all of my little tricks for getting it down the stairs and properly sized. Hubby: I have an easier time of getting stuff down the stairs than you, and I have no problem bringing it all down and hauling what’s left back up. But thank you. My batting average is really not going that hot. Also, I have to admit, I wish I had this guy’s muscle because really, I look like a dweeb hauling stuff through all the doors. No joke, you almost can’t see me over the mountain of laundry I haul, and that’s usually in my pajama pants with a very quick ponytail to disguise my unwashed mom hair. It really is a mess. Hubby: 4. Me: 1.

Conclusion? My husband is entirely capable, and I related this list to my mother who, if she hadn’t have been buckled into the front seat of the truck at the time, would probably have been on the floor laughing at me. By the end of my recital, I knew I was sounding ridiculous so I finished my speal and looked at my husband. He looked at me. I smiled. He tried not to laugh.

And off I went.

View Part 2 of my sleep study extravaganza here.

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