No sleep ‘til…Brooklyn?

I am seriously sleep-deprived. And it appears that — at least for the time being — my mother’s once seemingly imminent divorce ain’t happenin’ — so that leaves me high and dry in the “help is on its way” department. And, as always, it’s all about me. Even if it means my parents’ marriage has to end just so I can get some sleep. Seriously. (Sorry Poppy ☺.)

My children just don’t get it. You DO NOT wake up the parents before FIVE A.M. under ANY circumstances. (Save maybe a severed limb. And even then it depends which one.) And Beanie just keeps using that tired old “but I’m just a baby” excuse and enough is enough. I mean, really.

The reality is, I do feel bad for the little bundle. Teeth-growing is serious business. But she lulled us into a state of “we have it made” and we were getting used to it. Now she’s pulled the rug out from under us and — lo and behold — there was an abyss under it that we fell straight into. The hubby at least had the sense to take two business trips back-to-back so he could enjoy some five-star peace and quiet during the onslaught. It appears that I am just too stupid to have chosen a career that I have to travel for. But that Chicago blog conference is looking more and more enticing every moment. And surely there’s something shakin’ in the ad world that I just shouldn’t miss too, right?

Waaa me. Some evenings I do feel like giving in and having a full-blown Lucille Ball-esque bawling session. “Ay Loooss-eee! I’m HOO-OHMMME!

Today wasn’t Saturday. But it was. Here’s the deal. On the real Saturday I woke up to the Beanie alarm just in time to grab my latte and vacate the premises. I headed to Denver to work at the Ballpark Market with Jewelry Jane (aka Neighbor Jane). We met in the driveway at 5:45 a.m. (almost like sleeping in!) to get downtown in time to set up and be ready for the early bird looky-lous. Instead we were surrounded by some street-weary homeless chaps looking for breakfast. Once they got the message that we had no bacon to spare, we had a fun day outside selling JJ’s creations. (Her website will be live again soon, so keep checking.) And we made friends with the booth next door: Bruz Wear®. A very cool product with a noble cause.

These markets are a whole sub-culture. There was crazy gay guy yelling random things, cracking jokes and selling some sweet vintage cruiser bikes. There was the taco vendor circulating with rubber bulb-style clown hooter horn. There was the guy strolling the booths with a South American iguana on his shoulder — making me acutely aware of my reptile phobia when I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I also saw a guy wearing an ATF hat and I quickly looked away. It couldn’t be, could it?

Everyone had a story to tell — including the cute little man wearing the Leinenkugel hat who said, “Oh, I collect beer hats.” “Oh really?” JJ and I replied — thinking at his age the collection would be fairly extensive. “Oh yea. I have a Coors one AND a Budweiser one too!” Well geez already.

I came home and collapsed into an out-and-out fall-asleep-and-drool-on-myself slumber. We didn’t even make it to our friends’ BBQ. We ordered take out Thai and planted our behinds on the couch after the kiddos were down.

And after that lengthy ramble I almost forgot: the Sunday that was Saturday (kind of). So this morning, after being awoken to loud neighbors in driveway at 3:30 a.m., we were awoken again to screaming-mimi-Beanie at 4:30 a.m. (I have to add in the ‘a.m.s’ to make my point.) We opted for the pat-down-we’re-here-for-you-but-not-picking-you-up strategy. Enough IS enough. The bad news is that although the bean went back to sleep, Miss 6 did not. She went to the guest room bed only to come back into our room 10 minutes later to “check the clock.” And then 5 or so minutes after that had to loudly slam open the toilet seat to use the bathroom that’s closest to us. So it wasn’t long before she and the hubby were exchanging words…with escalating volume. “Daddy! I KNOW YOU LOVE BEANIE MORE THAN ME!!!” And, of course, none of this could wait until after the sun was up or, say, when she was 25 and seeing a therapist.

As she was screaming loudest, Beanie took one look at her and let out her baby-coo-laughy, to which Miss 6 responded indignantly, “Beanie! IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

So stressed out Saturday became Sunday this weekend and after some rounds of screaming and door slamming and my highly rational “SHUT IT!” at full volume, we packed up and went to breakfast at Southside Walnut. Walking and laughing on the way like we were the freakin’ Cleavers. If only.

We saw Purse Girl on the way home and she’s taking Ric Rac to Sweet William next weekend. To market, to market…and now I’m all an insider and sh**…

Next up: I’m a West Nile LAB RAT.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: The Rockafeller Skank. Fatboy Slim. Check it out now. The funk soul brother. Even endless repetition has a certain appeal at times.