I’m sick. Seabass is sick. Jake’s sick. And Sweet Chuck is sleep training. It’s been a special kind of hell around our house lately.
We can’t have anyone over, can’t go anywhere, can’t ask for help, and can’t sleep at night. Last night around 8:30 I started to doze off until Sweet Chuck woke up. We let her cry for a few minutes and she fell back asleep, but I was spun up like a meth addict. When I was finally able to wind down around 11:30am, the neighbors (yes, THOSE neighbors) decided to play beer pong in their back yard, about three and a half feet from my face. Before I called the cops, I fantasized about what sorts of things I’d like to say to them. I can’t recall details, but there were phrases like “…oh HELL no you are not waking me up again without CONsequences…” and “…treat you like the CHIMPS you are….”
Anyway. Being a stay-at-home mom is isolating enough, but being a sick stay-at-home mom is like solitary confinement. Only it isn’t solitary. Actually, come to think of it, solitary confinement sounds pretty good right now.
And sleep training, oy. I haven’t had to go back on antidepressants since Sweet Chuck was born, but if anything was going to tip me toward a breakdown, sleep training would be it. Fortunately, these are the sparkling eyes that greet me.
I am Jaime, wife to Jacob. We are the smitten, stupefied, sometimes scared silly parents of a precious boy nicknamed Seabass and a darling girl nicknamed Sweet Chuck.
Higher Highs, Lower Lows 
What a doll baby!
Perhaps the next time the kids are crying you could bundle them up, put them in the stroller, park it at the neighbor’s front door, ring the bell & ditch the kids when they answer? Of course, being the loving momma you are, you could “strike an attitude pose” before coming back to retrieve the kid-lets!
Are the neighbors too young to get the message?
I’m sorry to hear you got sick, too. Hopefully you’re all well soon. Maybe you should join the neighbors party when your sick and share the germs. Oh, that’s not nice, is it?