Before and After
Friday Night BC (Before Colin): fly out of work, run home to take care of the dog, do a little touch-up, then hop a train into the city, see a Broadway show, enjoy a late dinner and a few cocktails with H, and try to catch the last train back. Occasionally miss the 2AM train, and stay up all night waiting for the 6AM train watching the mass of humanity in Penn Station. Take a brief nap on the train, hoping we don't sleep through our stop. Drink water through the night to try and ward off a cocktail-induced headache the next morning. Saturday morning is a groggy daze as I try to recover from Friday night.
Friday Night AC (After Colin): fly out of work, pick up the boy from school, run home to take care of the dog, try and figure out something my son will deign to eat. Discover that my culinary miscalculation has displeased the budding gourmand. Give up and feed him yogurt. Saintly husband walks in carrying dinner from Outback (HOORAY!). Crack open a Guinness and wolf down dinner between finding things for the baby to eat/do. H cleans up the plates and I head upstairs for baby bath time. I come downstairs with the baby, and by the time I nurse him to sleep, H is also asleep on the sofa. (I hear the rebuttal now. "I was not asleep!" Yes dear, you were horizontal on the sofa, with your eyes closed, wide awake and making a fake snoring sound.) Baby finally asleep I take him to his crib, H is still "not" sleeping on the sofa. Take a brief nap before I am awakened at 1:30, and 2:00, and 3:00 by my poor sobbing (teething) son. Drink water through the night to try and ward off the inevitable 4-hours-of-sleep headache the next morning. Up again at 6AM to feed the baby. Saturday morning is a groggy daze as I try to recover from Friday night.
So really, there's I don't see any change in my life since the baby was born. On Friday nights I rush out of work, and Saturday mornings are a sleep-deprived daze. Same old same old. Right?
Friday Night AC (After Colin): fly out of work, pick up the boy from school, run home to take care of the dog, try and figure out something my son will deign to eat. Discover that my culinary miscalculation has displeased the budding gourmand. Give up and feed him yogurt. Saintly husband walks in carrying dinner from Outback (HOORAY!). Crack open a Guinness and wolf down dinner between finding things for the baby to eat/do. H cleans up the plates and I head upstairs for baby bath time. I come downstairs with the baby, and by the time I nurse him to sleep, H is also asleep on the sofa. (I hear the rebuttal now. "I was not asleep!" Yes dear, you were horizontal on the sofa, with your eyes closed, wide awake and making a fake snoring sound.) Baby finally asleep I take him to his crib, H is still "not" sleeping on the sofa. Take a brief nap before I am awakened at 1:30, and 2:00, and 3:00 by my poor sobbing (teething) son. Drink water through the night to try and ward off the inevitable 4-hours-of-sleep headache the next morning. Up again at 6AM to feed the baby. Saturday morning is a groggy daze as I try to recover from Friday night.
So really, there's I don't see any change in my life since the baby was born. On Friday nights I rush out of work, and Saturday mornings are a sleep-deprived daze. Same old same old. Right?
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