On the surface these things have little in common. Kinda like Hardcastle & McCormick. But sometimes unrelated things become intertwined through a conflagration of events that conspire to demoralize even the most prepared and grizzled parent.
Monday…and Tuesday…and Wednesday of last week were such days. A weaker man would have given up. Would have been crushed under the sheer weight of crappiness that beset me. Drawing strength from the influences of my youth like Hawk from Spenser for Hire, the cast of Red Dawn and David Lee Roth, I regrouped. This is my story. Or least what happened on Monday.
As you know daylight savings time began a week and a-half or so ago. At some point I’m happy about daylight savings time. That point is not the first Sunday on which it occurs. The only reason we have it is because industrialists wanted more daylight to produce goods and used World War I as an excuse to get Congress to pass it. Its just like Obamacare except people grew to like it. None of that matters when you’re getting up an hour early for church. That lost hour of sleep came on top of the girls staying up past their bedtime numerous times the week before because Grandpa and Grandma were here. Why? Mom’s hometown was in the state basketball tournament. Won the state championship in double OT on Saturday night. Woo hoo! Go hometown-in-law! Anyway, Thursday night was the semi-finals and the girls, of course, went. So when you combine Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, along with the lost hour Sunday morning, you pretty much have an entire night’s sleep lost for the girls.
The girls handle the adversity associated with a lack of sleep poorly.
This came to a head Sunday night as Mom is falling asleep after getting ready for her trip to Denver. A trip for which we needed to be up at 4:30 Monday morning. Which, if you remember, still feels like 3:30 in the morning. You’d think the exhaustion caused by the lack of sleep would knock the girls flat. Like Clubber Lang in his rematch with Rocky. Naturally, you’d also be wrong. We mistakenly let the girls all take naps Sunday afternoon. Which made them less grumpy Sunday evening but also far, far less sleepy. So when bedtime rolled around, an hour earlier than normal because of daylight savings time, they were about as ready for bed as the French were for German Panzers in 1940.
Kinsey, and I’m not kidding about this, came completely unglued because of her inability to fall asleep. She was up until at least 11 having failed to fall asleep for the previous 2 hours. Bails was right next to her sawin’ logs however. Out. Cold. Kinsey’s meltdown was at the point where you can sense that if it isn’t addressed, it’ll turn into an event recalled years later as that time you almost went all Steven Segal on her. The Above the Law Segal not the fat Segal with fake hair. I mean she came into our room 3 maybe 4 times waking up Mom each time, to tell us, through tears, that she couldn’t fall asleep. A fact that was maddeningly evident since she was standing there crying. The last time she brought a pillow, a stuffed animal and a blanket and said, “Can I sleep with you guys, I know you’re mad but I can’t fall asleep and I’m starting to get really worried about it.”
In an upset not seen since NC State’s tourney title run in’83, I did not freak out or raise my voice. Because after all, to paraphrase Rick Springfield, it was all just jive and honey.
Also on Sunday I learned that Riley’s softball coach scheduled her first practices for Monday and Tuesday. No big deal except the Monday practice is from 5:30-7 which happens to coincide with Bailey’s gymnastics from 5:30-6 and Kinsey’s gymnastics which goes from 6:30-8:30. And Mom is out of town on the aforementioned trip to Denver. So Monday morning , the girls are whiny and crabby because they were up late for three days. And don’t forget that daylight savings time started. Add in that I was up at 4:30 to take Mom to the airport. Oh and Bailey didn’t feel good this morning. And Kinsey forgot her geography homework at school.
That turned out be the best part of the week. Why? Well, Grandma arrived to help out. She drove the girls to softball and gymnastics. Except for Bails. Bails stays home because she has a fever and is exhibiting the strep throat symptoms. This is disconcerting to learn while I’m at work.
I get home about 9:30 and Bails is burning up. She’s hotter than Harold Jensen in the ’85 NCAA title game against Georgetown. I take her to up to bed and she falls asleep. Then about an hour later it sounds like somebody is running laps and/or practicing the long jump upstairs. I go upstairs and Bails has turned into Linda Freaking Blair. She was completely and utterly confused. Delerious. Disoriented. Her legs are pumping, eyes abnormally wide open and she couldn’t really complete a sentence. I felt like Nancy Pelosi’s staff does everyday. She finally calms down…but it feels like she has a fever of 137.
Then about 12:45 a.m. we have a replay. This time Grandma is upstairs to witness it. And even Grandma was a bit taken aback by the freakiness of it. We take her temp. 101.8. Not good. But she’s also not going to burst into flames. I think. Neither of us get any sleep since we keep getting up to check on Bails. Not to mention that I was reeling a bit from weirdness of the whole thing. But hey, Tuesday, has to be better…