So I'll get straight to it...

This weekend Zane took Amanda and I on a tour of Hell.

I was already tired from not getting too much sleep Thursday night. It always takes me a while to recuperate from a lack of sleep. Even in college it wasn't so much the drinking as the loss of those precious, uninterrupted hours of sleep that did me in. Of course the drinking didn't help.

So by Friday night I was near exhaustion.

Bedtime. Zane had slept well from the time we put him down, and we had no indication he was going to do anything but sleep through the night. He had other ideas. From 10:30 to about 2:00 he was not interested in sleep. Or should I put it this way: he was interested in screaming at the top of his lungs... wailing even for no apparent reason. Amanda was becoming frustrated with him, and rightly so. She would go in the room and hold him until he was fast asleep, and even snoring. Then she'd put him back in the crib and walk out. As soon as she had left the room he'd begin the calling of the whales. Long, gutteral moans of desperation.

Amanda insisted that I not go in there. That he was just tired - perhaps overly so - and just needed to cry himself to sleep. At that point, Amanda and I were both ready to cry ourselves to sleep. I finally felt like I had no option but to go in there. I stood at his crib. He stood and looked at me in the low glow of the nightlight. I didn't touch him. I didn't talk to him. I just stood there.

He eventually sat himself down in his crib, all the while mumbling something. Then he laid down - hopefully to go to sleep. Every few minutes he would look over at me, then turn his head again and begin his deep breathing - indicating he was going to sleep. So I left the room. I had just climbed back into bed when he began his crying again. Not as harsh or loud as before, but definite crying.

I don't remember much after that. We all fell asleep. Amanda reported the next morning that he cried a bit more after that, but not too much - not so much that she got up anyway.

Saturday was fairly uneventful during the day. Until we decided that we should go out for dinner. Going out for dinner is something that we rarely do. It has more to do with me being cheap frugal than anything else. But it sounded good, so we went. Zane was not interested in:

Zane was more interested in:

It was embarassing to some degree, just simply because people look at you as if you're doing something wrong. And pardon me, but isn't a restaurant a public place? Don't look at me as if my crying kid is the only thing keeping you from having a fun/romantic/carfree/spectacular dinner.

It was made more embarassing when the waitress (who wasn't even our waitress) came over to our table in a moment of Zane-quietness and said, "Weeellll... it's about time you got quiet!!"

Hey, fatass: that doesn't help things.

Then for some reason, Amanda and I decided to rent "Man on Fire" - well it sounded good, and hey, Denzel would never let us down, right? It should have been called "Man this movie sucks ass". I fell asleep in parts of it and didn't feel like I had missed anything.

Thank god Zane slept last night...

previous - next

duh - 2008-09-15

hi mac - 2006-12-12

corporate whore - 2006-11-03

new - 2006-10-05

elvis costello sings for you - 2006-09-27

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