Sleepwaker

I don't have a pipe or a den or a thing about whiskey. I've got no energy left for nordic walking. I also don't have a muscle car on blocks that I'm working on out back. I live in Europe, so my choices are go to a cafe and smoke or put on deodorant. The two are mutually exclusive here. I do neither. So that means when my wife and I aren't rearing a child, I spend my free time on the computer pretty much spacing out.

I came home at lunch today and made a rest of the day plan with M. It was pretty simple: baby is exhausted, M puts the baby to sleep, I sit at the computer, M takes The Cos to a cafe to write a paper, I stay sitting at the computer. Sounds good, right?

First thing that happened, The Koala pressed buttons on the super advanced electronic washer/dryer which locked our wet clothes in the machine until they rot. M and I both screamed and started pushing other buttons in an effort to unlock the secret moves. Didn't work. The Koala stood there silently hitting herself in the head. 

After other time sucking activities related to chasing the baby and putting diapers on, M went into the bedroom to put her down. After about five or so minutes of trying to read an excruciatingly long email with separate postscript from my very good friend Justine Klineman, M opened the door and as always, I held my breath to see if she was walking out alone. She was alone! And then I heard the tell tale pitter patter on the floor with giggling right behind her.

I got myself bundled up, put the baby in the sling, bundled up the baby, played hello/goodbye with her mother and we went out for the fall asleep walk. It wasn't easy because our neighborhood is Kandahar in the daytime, starring angry retirees in loud cars battling each other for the right to be indignant, beeping and banging delivery trucks and early bird construction crews. She went down after 10 minutes of bounce walking. I returned while M stood by to breastfeed in case the final put down from sling to bed imploded. I crept quietly into the room, I whispered the dog into the other room, I was smoother than a cat burglar. I delicately unwrapped her without disturbance, knelt on the bed and ever so gently, soooo gently put her down. She stirred and opened her eyes, but I communicated via my mind alone, you don't see me, you are sleeping. And she went down to sleep. Silent touchdown dance.

Maxi took the dog and left. Seven minutes later, I heard wailing. Motherfucker. Seven minutes?

Okay okay okay. I took a deep breath, love love love love and kindness emanating from all of my nerves. Picked up the baby, laid with the baby, rocked the baby. The baby screamed like she was being sacrificed by that Bible 1.0 dude Abraham whom God told, bro, do me a favor and show your devotion, kill your favorite son Isaac for me. So back in the sling. Back in the warm sleepy vest. Walk the fuck around the house, shutting all the windows, setting up a protective sleepy force field. Baby is nigh nigh after 15 long minutes of stirring, checking, escaping, wriggling, worming, crying and reaching.

And once again, I quietly put her down like a reverse thief in the night, smooth ninja cat burglar, yodda yodda. She woke up, but I blasted her again with the mind messages and then she drifted back to sleep. No touchdown dance. 

10 minutes later. I saw the shadows of her little scurrying feet under the door. My heart stopped and I froze, sending more mental sleepy messages. The little feet stood still and then WAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Breathing. Centering. Punching hole in wall. 

I opened the door. Only this time, all the love was gone. I was just robot dad set to firm, but gentle. I put her back in the sling, back in the vest. Walked around the house. Even with the TRIPLE GLAZED windows closed, Kandahar is loud, even louder because school had just let out. I was dealing with extreme baby ambivalence. She was exhausted, but she just couldn't sleep, so more fighting, more arms, more legs, more of everything and I just stayed robot dad, bouncing in the sling and sleepy vest for about 10 long minutes until I cracked and let out an AAAAGHHH! It got silent. Arms went slowly back in the sling and I felt terrible. I stood in one of the darkest spot of our house swaying and bouncing for another 15 minutes.

Of course our baby can't sleep all the time, our house is loud. We have a corner house across a very narrow one lane, bidirectional road from a grocery store that receives deliveries all day. Not to mention the entitled customers who battle it out over the three parking spots in front. Our house is also positioned at a deliberate bottleneck that gets bunged up all the time with infuriated drivers. Thankfully, we're moving in a month.

All the police would have to do, after they cleaned up all the blood and bodies would be to look at this blog. They'd see and know. And we'd have talk shows about how to prevent mass slaughters by foreigners.

She finally fell asleep. By that point, at least two hours had passed since M left and it was just a blur of bouncing and shushing. The afternoon was winding down into dinner and I felt like a monster for losing my patience.

M and the dog came home a short time later. M has been drained for a good 16 months and we both folded on the couch together. It was time to make dinner and just as I was getting ready, the baby started screaming. It was just as well because she loves to hang on me to help me cook.