So the boy’s new way of going to sleep at night is he doesn’t. What he does instead is squeal and yell and talk to himself and shout and sing for, oh, four hours or so, punctuated by roughly hourly demands that his mother come attend to some minor need of his. Occasionally I try to be the one to
tell him to shut the fuck up and go to sleep attend to his needs, at which point he gets pissed off that the wrong parent is being inconvenienced and shit gets worse. He was up past midnight last night, which means he was up somewhere between an hour and an hour and a half past the point where my wife and I went to bed, meaning that in addition to the squealing and the occasional musing about lacing his last drink of the night with some sort of tranquilizer I also got the fun mental exercise of is it going to cause a fight if I just shut off the fucking baby monitor? Because he’s right down the fucking hallway and we’ll hear him if he hollers anyway and then not doing it because the last thing I need right now at bloody zero dark thirty is an argument about whether we still need a baby monitor.
Anyway: point is, it’s 9 AM, I’ve been up since 6:30, I have no memory of anything between my wife and son leaving for the morning and right now, and I’m hoping that what I think is the second cup of coffee of the day kills this headache. I’m getting dangerously close to the point where I need to declare a “no screens at all” day, which is trouble, because I’ve got a short story due in a couple of days and I’m trying to write a novel, and I kind of need to look at screens to do either of those things.
<stares dully at screen for ten minutes>
Okay. Yeah. Not getting much done today.