How Do I Loathe Thee, Let Me Count The Ways

There are those moments in life that change everything, ones that define who you were and who you are now. I believe my English teacher referred to them as epiphanies. Yesterday morning was THE defining moment for me.

I believe it started about 9 p.m. the night before as the baby screamed, my head pounded and my heart raced. Some people call this a panic attack, and that’s precisely what it was. Now since J-Fed had officially resigned from his position as husband last Monday, he wasn’t much inclined to help me in my time of need. I pleaded with him to stay home for the next two nights – at least until the new nanny arrived.

Panic schmanic… Oh, it’s all in your head, he’d tell me. Snap out of it!

And off he went into the night without a care in the world. OK, maybe there was an argument and some nagging that precipitated his imminent departure. However, a commitment is a commitment, and he had promised me that he'd stick around.

Poor teething baby probably cried for about three more hours straight. I tried Infant Tyenol. I tried rocking her. I even tried running the vacuum to soothe her to sleep. About the only thing I didn’t try was stabbing the J-Fed voodoo doll.

After a long, treacherous evening, we both fell asleep from exhaustion. At 12:30 a.m., it all began to go downhill. Heart palpitations. Cold sweats. Panic. All alone I was. Just me, the girls and my J-Fed voodoo doll. Finally, I gave in and called my mother to come help me at 1:30 a.m.

Meanwhile, at a bar up the road, J-Fed laughed, joked and shot pool until 3 a.m. in the morning.

Now, he managed not to piss in the armoire this time around. Do you know why? Because he wasn't drunk. That's right. Old J-Fed made the decision to stay up there with sound mind and body.