First and foremost, I wish I wasn’t familiar with what the lighting in my house looks like at this time of night. Sadly, having been in this house only 6 nights, I already know too well how to navigate the route from my futon, past the couch, turning a corner, past two doors into the children’s room.
So I wish I had nothing to say at 4.42 AM. I had already been awoken at 11.30 by Scarlett and then again at 3 am by Scarlett who, after an uneventful nursing session, went easily back to sleep.
But then at 4.40, I heard a small voice in the night call out, “I have a poopy diaper.” I went to change MR. ICANTHOLDMYPOOPUNTIL7AM and it was a false alarm. I was pissed. I put him back in bed and returned to my room. I heard him open his CD player, pop in The Beatles and turn it on.
I quote myself, “If he f***ing wakes her up I am going to kick him in the head.”
You are so not alone in saying things like that and regretting it!
Sister, in my house it’s usually “punch so and so in the face” but I feel your pain. Those dark hours of the night are filled with nasty little statements that we wouldn’t otherwise say.
If you’re up again then tonight, text me. I’ll be up too. Fun!
I am laughing hysterically, because I knowing the feeling all too well. Oh, the rage I’ve felt at 4:42 am, myself! You don’t really mean it, but it’s the only thing to describe that feeling.