36 hours ago, I had this week's post locked, loaded, and ready to go...
36 hours ago, this week's Truthful Tuesdays question was:
What's the best excuse you've ever used to get out of an obligation, like work, school, or chores?
(And did you get away with it?)It still is, for those
of you keeping track.
36 hours ago, I thought my answer would be something like this...
"'My garage door won't open and my car is stuck inside'-- I know, brilliant, right?I mean, what were my bosses going to do? Come and break down my garage door? Pick me up in a work carpool? Thankfully, nobody suggested that... although I wouldn't have put it past them. It gave me the perfect excuse to lay low for a day, enjoy an unexpected day at home with the G, get some stuff done around the house without the guilt of (A) faking sick or (B) not getting out of my pajamas all day long."
That was an excerpt from my now-deleted, never-to-see-the-light-of-day original post scheduled for today.Oh fate, you've dealt me a cruel, cruel blow... 
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So, back to my newly-improved,
revised version of today's Truthful Tuesday question:
It's a sick child.Sunday night, as all you Saints fans were canonizing Drew Brees and celebrating your franchise's first Super Bowl appearance, I myself was trying to fall asleep.
Trying being the operative word, because even at that point I was having a tough go of it.
But then, just as my eyelids were beginning to grow heavy, a wail from the baby monitor on my nightstand...
G has been sleeping through the night for 10 months now, so at first this didn't alarm me. DH & I agreed to let her cry it out, knowing after a frantic 60 seconds of searching for her binky (
yes, she still uses one at 16 months old;
no, we have no plans to take it away any time soon), she'd go back to sleep.
WRONG.DH went to calm her down, then came back to bed. Five minutes later, she was crying again, so I went in to work some "mommy magic" (all the while thinking why DH couldn't have some of my potent powers). But even my hugs, cuddles, and soothing voice could do the trick. This girl was STUFFED UP. Her binky was covered in a thin layer of snot (how did DH not notice this? wait, wait, this post is about G, not DH... moving on...); her face was
covered in snot; so where her pajamas. I got a few wipes, cleaned her off, helped her blow her nose, and laid her back down to sleep.
Five minutes later... yeah, you guessed it.
At this point, I finally realized that she
couldn't sleep; at least not in her crib, lying down on a flat service. Every time she did, her nose got stuffy, she had to spit her binky out, and that woke her up. So, I sent DH and Ducky to the spare bedroom, piled the pillows high on our own bed, and-- for the
first time in G's life-- slept with her in my bed.
Scratch that.
We attempted to sleep.
Using the high-tech graphic design programs on my computer (aka "Paint"), here are a few artist-renderings of our night:
First, there's the "use mommy's ribs as a drum set and leg rest simultaneously position:
(please note: the green "circle" near G's mouth represents her omnipresent binky)
Then, there's the Greco-Roman wrestling position known as the
"foot to the throat choke-hold":
And lastly, my personal favorite, the
"my daughter, my earmuffs" position:
Yes, it was quite a night in our house. By the time it was all said and done, G was
blessedly mercifully asleep. I was suffering from bumps, bruises, and perhaps a broken rib. Oh, and I only slept about 3 hours that night.
In my job, I apply the
5-hour rule of sleep: any less than five hours of shut eye, and I don't trust myself or my writing (hmmm, maybe I shouldn't be writing on my blog right now???). In a job where I can get my station sued because my anchor wears a hideous necklace (not really, but it seems like it), sometimes it's just better for me to
stay home rather than risk legal action for a sleep-deprived misstep.
Besides, when you call in
sick at 3:30am with a screaming toddler
howling into the phone, who's going to
argue with you?
So, tell me, tell me do...
Whether or not it was a made-up excuse or a real one:
What's the best excuse you've ever used to get out of an obligation, like work, school, or chores?
(And did you get away with it?)
