For months now, I’ve successfully managed to go through the day on a minimum of four to six hours of sleep. Lately, Hunter’s teething has got me up in all spurts of the night. Most of the time, I don’t mind as I don’t get to see him during the day, any chance him is all worth while. Recently, we have been awaken by his loud wail. A wail so loud that I am trained to pounce out of bed. Mostly, he just wants his plug back in his mouth or a bottle which I have all ready to go.
For the past five years, I’ve become this morning person. For instance, sleeping in past eight thirty in the morning is like struggling to do a hundred push ups. In turn, yours truly takes pride in sharing my morning with my loved ones.
“Hiya! Whatcha doin?”
“I knew it was you, only you would call before eight.” My sister incoherently tousled by the phone call, “you woke your nieces you know.”
“Sorry, I just wanted to wish you a good morning! It’s a beautiful day out there, you should get up!” As I lay in bed comfy in my 2005 Christmas pajamas with husband, Chloe, and Hunter, “alright, I’ll call you later go back to bed.” I giggled and made a mad dash dial for fellow victims. I pounced on friends that couldn’t see past ten o’clock in the morning. They never answered the phone which left me no choice, but to sing them one of my personalized jingles usually in the form of a seventies tune like Close to You by the Carpenters, “Why are you sleeping like a bear? Are you hung over? Do you care? Just like me, I long to be, up earleeeeeee. Click.” I would go on chorus over chorus until their voicemail cuts me off.
“Why do you do that?” My husband always shook his head in dismay.
“It’s funny.” I always shrug with delight.
On Saturday mornings, we’d go for an early work out at the gym or to the Ferry Building and hit the farmers market before the late risers got there. Well, this particular Saturday I rushed the family out the door at eight to get to the farmers market. After a few weeks of over cast and wind chills, we were exhilarated to be up early on a beautiful sunny day. As Shane stood in line for a breakfast sandwich at Rose Pistola’s stand, I waited for a lushes cup of blue bottle coffee. Shane had Hunter in the stroller as he began crying, I quickly went for the bottle in the diaper bag. My heart was in my throat, the bottle was no where to be found. I retraced my steps and realized I left the bottle on the counter to open the back door for Chloe. At this point, Hunter is wailing like his big toe’s been snapped off and he has thrown his yellow plug on the ground. Rats!
As I’m constantly grilling Shane to keep his diaper bag stocked, I wholeheartedly screwed up this one.
“I forgot his bottle.” I felt like a five year old that had wet her bed.
“Are you serious?” Shane was astounded, especially after my lecture on making sure we had a back up of everything in our diaper bag.
“Yes, I’m an idiot.” Still, I was determined to shop for tonight’s dinner party.
“I can drive back home and pick up a bottle. We can’t stay here with him like this.” Hunter’s wails began to disturb the peaceful shoppers that basked in the warmth with their coffee and breakfast.
“Stroll around and I’ll find you,” My quick resolution to defy the bottle.
“We can’t stay here without his bottle?” Shane threw me a look sharp as a five star ninja blade. He unstrapped Hunter from the stroller which instantly ended his battle cry, “Go shop, I’ll hold him.”
I wanted to stroll through every stall, but we didn’t know how long Hunter would last especially with his teething and the absence of his bottle. He was a ticking time bomb. “Shellie hurry up.” Shane shook his head as I patiently stood there tasting a bite of Alaska sprouts from the sprout vendor.
“Alright, alright. Let’s get some fish and hit the Wine Merchant than I’m done.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Shane liked it best when we had direction. Heck, I liked myself better too. We entered the Ferry Building into the mass of people. There were more early risers than expected. I quickly made a detour to the mushroom stand, I grabbed two varieties of shimeji mushrooms. Shane two stalls ahead held Hunter on his forearm like a football, witnessed my weakness. After purchasing a whole escolar we were almost done, we made our way to the wine shop. Shane a few steps ahead of me, I thought I’d sneak into Recchuttiti to see if they had any fresh marshmallows in today.
“What are you doing?”
I was busted. “Getting some marshmallows. I figured I’d get some for Valentines day for myself.” I grabbed for the quickest reason, but came up with a lie.
“I was going to get you some.” Shane always full of surprises, “now you’re not getting any this year.”
“I wouldn’t want you driving here on Thursday. It’ll be insane. I’ve saved you some time.” I smiled waiting to see if this lie could make it to the surface of common sense, “besides they’re always out.”
“Oh my god, I’ll meet you at the wine shop.” He saw straight through my fib.
We drove back home Hunter asleep. It was a close call. For it was my fault, because I removed the back up bottle yesterday, I thought the bag was too cumbersome for Shane. Shane grabbed my hand as I apologized for my inefficiency, “That’s okay honey, now you know that when I forgot something it’s not on purpose.”
This is Shellie discovering the many facets of being human back to you Bob at the studio!