Saturday, January 19, 2008

Does it count as sleeping around?

I went into the room for the echocardiogram and was surprised at how dim they kept it.  The lights were turned way down low and it reminded me of the "overnight" part of an overnight flight.

The lady came in wearing blue scrubs and told me to lay on my side on the cot.  I don't want to sound disparaging, but I want to be accurate.  I think the best way to describe her is "matronly".  She reminded me of a chubby, urban grandma.  Maybe not chubby.  Maybe stout is a better word.  The kind of grandma who still goes and gets her highlights and her nails did.  She talked to me about her son, who is just a few years younger than me.

When I was situated, she rolled her stool up behind me, and tucked her arm around me to position the equipment over my chest.  I wish I could share a picture of it.  It would be so much more accurate than my description.  It was almost like a hug.


It was about 30 minutes later by my watch, when I woke myself up with my own snoring.

Awkward?  Yeah, a little.  She was still conducting the test, and I couldn't remember if she was still talking when I fell asleep.  And snoring in front of strangers is always a bit off-putting.

But y'know what"s worse than the shame?  After it was all done, I told Carol, and now I think she's a bit jealous.

Friday, January 18, 2008


It's 3 in the morning and I'm sleeping with the kid on the couch.  The kid's been having some sleeping problems as of late, but we've sworn off bringing him back to bed with us.  Does it make a difference that we're on the couch and not in bed?  I'm not sure, but I tell myself it's the principle of the thing.

But anyways, it's 3 am, and I'm woken up by the sound of Carol's office TV.  I get up to go check, and the TV has just decided to turn on, on its own.

Creepy, huh?

So I turn it off, and go back to the couch, but can't fall back asleep.  All I can hear is rhythmic creaking, which reminds me of the Grudge.  And of course, trying NOT to think about the Grudge, only makes you think about the Grudge more.

Experiment:  DON'T think about purple polka-dotted hippos.   See?  It's like our brains are actually temperamental 3 year olds.

So I huddle up against my little 16 month old for protection and moral support. And I feel conflicted.  I remember how big and strong and fearless my dad always seemed to me.  I've got to learn to put on a better front.  Because no one can be *that* fearless, right? 

And then I look down at my precious boy and imagine that if his eyes sprang open at that minute, and he meowed, I would absolutely crap my pants.

I have a lot of work ahead me, if I want to seem fearless.