Friday night. Taking a break at work while I wait on my pages to get the go-ahead. Coffee to prop up droopy eyelids, even though that’s ill-advised at 10:30 when I know I’ll be trying to sleep in two hours. I spent my entire morning and afternoon chasing naps after Holden decided 4 a.m. was as good a time as any to get up. That boy has put us through the ringer this week in the sleep department. We got spoiled to his sleeping 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. thing, even if 6 is painfully early for me to rise after getting home so late. But this week something’s up: At least two nights he woke up every 2-3 hours, and not because he was hungry. Just because he wanted to party. Buds McKenzie, you know better than that!
I am trying to get psyched up for the weekend. We’re hitting the road tomorrow morning and heading to Shiloh, where my dad will be taking part in the huge 150th anniversary to-do. Of course he wants me to photograph the battles and encampments at the crack of dawn, but there is no way that’s feasible for me and I’ve tried to explain that to him so he won’t be disappointed. I remind him often that back in November, remember that time I had a baby? Yeah, he is still here, the baby, and he is in charge, and he does not want to go hang out in a grassy, hot-ass field all day while the dulcet tones of gunfire and cannon shots echo around us. My one clear objective for the day is to photograph Mom and Dad’s vow renewal ceremony, which is taking place after the battles end and before the big ball begins. It’s where all the men in their dressy wool with brass buttons and the ladies in their giant hoop skirts and lace will join hands and dance a respectable distance from one another. My parents are going to do this thing in full period regalia, a fact I have repeated to people around me a dozen times and the novelty never seems to wear off. They’ve been planning it since their 25th anniversary but time got away from them. This year’s the year, though!
Then we are going to attempt our first overnighter away from home because I am 100 percent positive I am going to be exhausted and have a major headache by the evening. The prospect of an overnighter away from home is sort of terrifying but a little less so thanks to our week of broken, weird sleep patterns that have spooked me out of my hard-won comfort zone. If ever there’s a time to break routine, I guess this is it. Our bedtime routine is pretty sacred so I wonder to what degree Holden being away from his bed and his creature comforts will result in his not understanding that it’s time to sleep for a long time. On the other hand, the bedtime routine could be total superstition on our part, but I’ve been too paranoid to break it or else risk a completely sleepless night.
My parents are giddy at the prospect of getting to spend more than just a few hours with him, which is sweet. They speak often of longing for the days when he can spend weeks in the summer on the farm. That’s all well and good but he is NOT ALLOWED to ride four-wheelers until he’s 30. Okay? Okay. AND KEEP HIS TINY BABY HANDS AWAY FROM THOSE HORSES’ MOUTHS!
It would be really great if Sunday could be extra laid back and leisurely, with me catching up on five months’ worth of lost sleep while the family passes the baby around while sipping tall sweating glasses of sweet tea out on the veranda beneath the whirring fans, but I am not delusional enough to think that’s a possibility at this age. Also we don’t have a veranda with a fan; this isn’t The Help. I am sort of diplomatically letting go of the notion of ever being able to truly relax again. At least not until he’s grown.