Short stories with a comical twist on the daily obstacles, aka adventures, of parenthood

Tag: sleep

Where Can I Buy Sleep?

Do you know how hard it is to keep up with my reputation as a 2-month-old baby? After birth, I have to learn how to eat, sleep AND poop – all the while looking cute. It is exhausting. Especially since I have to wake up every two hours screaming my lungs out to get a sip of warm milk. What does one have to do to get a drink around here?! Suck a toe? Why can’t they just buy me a bigger stomach so I can drink more and sleep for a full day?

At this stage, due to the multiple interruptions, I only get to sleep 15 hours total.

Don’t even get me started about lack of sleep. A lot of people told Mommy to “cherish this stage because babies grow up fast.” I was astonished. Do these people not like to sleep? I cannot comprehend why parents would trade a full day’s sleep for 20-minute naps every two hours to tend to a baby; of course, it worked well in my favor. Sometimes, these parents even give up sleep to clean the house!

They do know that baby bottles and laundry just clean themselves, right?

I use 10-12 bottles a day and sometimes projectile vomit on the floor. Everything just self-cleans when I wake up without having to lift a pinky. The life of a grown-up is too confusing. Can I go back to sleep now? Or tell me where I can buy more sleep. Please add it to my online shopping cart while I nap. I’ll pick it up in two hours.

Hot Potato had a Fever

It is 4 AM, and I stink. Mommy passed me to daddy as she ran away, coughing into her elbow. “Paci!” he screamed. Yes! I want that, maybe that’ll help with the burning sensation all over my body. Mommy ran back and tried to stuff the paci into his mouth. No! Wrong person! I wailed louder. As daddy put the paci in my mouth, the parents looked at each other and laughed deliriously from the lack of sleep, their voices echoed down the hallway and back.

“Hot potato coming through!” daddy said as he passed me back to mommy and ran away for his coughing break.

Guys! Stop fighting for a chance to hold me; now is not the time to demonstrate your love. My body feels like it is on fire, my head is aching – stop moving me around!

“Time for another dose,” says daddy as he came back with a syringe. The sticky cherry syrup drizzled down my chin. He then gave me a bottle of milk, the warm liquid smoothly flowed down my throat. Waking up every hour (instead of every 2 hours like usual) with a high fever is making me hungry.

After I finished my meal, the fluid uncontrollably started bubbling in my tummy, like a volcano about to erupt.

It burnt my esophagus on its way up, and I sputtered the mix of cherry-flavored milk acid over my shirt, floor, and the parents. Ugh. Not again! It had been hard for my 3-month old body to keep anything down these days. Whatever you do, mommy, don’t bathe me nor change my clothes – I am well aware that I stink.

At this point, just let me swim in sour milk curds; I am too tired.

As if she could read my mind, I felt a wet towel wiping my face, chin, ears, and body – the cooling sensation felt good on my burning skin. I caught a glimpse of mommy – her eyes barely opened, the deep dark circles and the wrinkles under her eyelids made her look older – what happened to her? I drift to sleep, thinking about mold growing on the sour milk by tomorrow morning.

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