Nap time- the new happy hour

Recently, I jokingly suggested to my wife using blatant feigned chivalry, that she get some much needed rest while I take "the late shift" with the baby. She quickly accepted my offer as the words were still leaving my tongue. Clearly, she didn't know I was kidding. But when I pointed out her understandable error, she simply smiled and changed the subject by saying something about owning a gun. Anyway, it appeared my attempt at humor had backfired and I was in for a late night.

I immediately began to prepare for the event. Specifically I started to consume copious amounts of caffeine. Now many of you may or may not know that I don't drink coffee. But I DO drink soda- lots and lots of soda. It was currently 9pm and "the late shift" officially begins at midnight and runs till around 3am. So I had roughly 3 hours to establish an i.v. drip of Pepsi One inserted via catheter into a decent sized vein. Long story short, let me simply say that I drank quite a bit. That is a momentous statement coming from someone such as myself. To put things into perspective, I've been known to drink up to 4 liters of soda in one day. So it is possible (as suggested by my bowels that evening) that I was pushing the Maximum Tolerated Dose.

Once I was feeling properly drugged, I whisked my child up into my arms and told Lesley something along the lines of, "DontworryIvegotitfromhereyoujustrelaxandgotobed". For some reason, she all of a sudden didn't seem to keen on the idea and she suggested that perhaps she should take the boy after all. I gently and calmly reassured her that I had it under control and asked "Whatstheworstthingthatcouldhappen?" With a perplexed look on her face, Lesley acquiesced to my cold, unflappable logic and went to bed.

The following is a brief recap of the events that took place during that shift:

12:00am- Zach is sleeping peacefully. I am confidant in my abilities as a father. I pick up a book and start to read.

12:02- Zach is screaming. I put down the book. He doesn't want to eat. I assume its gas and try to burp him.

12:06- Zach is screaming. It wasn't gas. I'm now considering force feeding him because I'm sure that is what his problem is.

12:07- Zach is screaming. Force feeding only made him more pissed. I attempt to change his diaper, hoping that will shut him up

12:08- Zach is screaming. I knock over his bottle while wiping crap off the walls in between looking for a fresh diaper liner and rubbing my temples.

12:10- Zach is screaming. I change out of my urine soaked shirt and put Zach in a fresh set of Jammies.

12:11- Zach is screaming. Zach immediately barfs as I put him on the shoulder of my clean shirt.

12:14- Zach is screaming. I can hear Zach soil his clean diaper from the other room as I'm changing into a fresh shirt.

12:31- Zach is screaming. I begin to curse Lesley since this is obviously her fault... she probably ate spicy food or something

12:45- Zach is screaming. I try singing to him.

12:46- Zach is screaming. I give up trying to sing because neither of us can hear me anyway.

1:07- Zach is screaming. I begin to have evil thoughts.

1:22- Zach is screaming. I want to shake him like an English Nanny.

1:45- Zach is screaming. He barfs on me again. I am fairly certain it was on purpose. I don't even bother to change shirts now.

2:01- Zach is screaming. I am defeated. I am curled up in the corner humming nursery rhymes to myself.

2:45- Zach is screaming. I am beginning to question my grasp on reality.

3:03- Zach is screaming. Lesley walks into the nursery room to find me curled up in the fetal position in the center of the floor, soaked in barf and what may or may not be my son's urine.

3:04- Zach is sleeping peacefully in his mothers arms. I pick myself up off the floor and tell Lesley that it was a piece of cake and she needs any pointers she knows where to find me

3:05- I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow and lay comatose for 6 hours.

Here is a video I shot just this morning around 5 am just after another visit from the whaambluance.