You know, that one that always looks a little bit crazy eyed and is lucky their head is attached because if not they would be looking for it frantically like they look for everything else?
Yeah, that is officially me.
Tuesday night Joaquin decided to wake up at 11pm and go back to sleep at 1:30am. Needless to say, I was a wee bit tired yesterday. I was in a haze. All my words came out just a little bit slower than normal. I had the attention span of one of my students and coworkers had to ask if I was OK. I'm pretty used to a decent amount of sleep. Yeah, he wakes up early, but he never wakes up in the middle of the night and stays up for two and a half freaking hours.
He finally fell asleep after some pretty impressive boob-nastics. He was laying perpendicular to me while nursing, then decided to use my face as a step to kick off into a somersault over my body. Suddenly he just fell asleep with his feet tucked into my armpit and his head at the other end of the bed. Oh sweet sleep.
Like I said, yesterday I was a zombie. But I made it through the workday with no major accidents. In the evening I aimlessly wandered around the house trying to unpack diaper bags, start dinner and entertain Joaquin. He had had an early two hour nap, but by the afternoon he was a crabby little mess. At one point I looked down to see him playing with my car keys in the kitchen. He was putting them into and pulling them out of a Trader Joes bag. I remember thinking "Hmmm, I should take those away from him so he doesn't lose them". But I don't think I did. I think I was just happy that at that moment he was occupied and not whimpering at my pant leg while I drudged around the house.
Fast forward to this morning. Dan took off with Joaquin, I got ready for work. I was running a little late but was in a good enough mood. We ALL had slept wonderfully. Very little waking up last night and we woke up well rested.
I went to grab my bag and keys and suddenly it dawned on me.
Where are my keys? I dug madly through my bag. Where are MY KEYS?!? I searched the kitchen table picking up every object to see if they were somehow hiding them.
WHERE THE F*CK ARE MY KEYS?!!?!?!!?
Then, I remembered yesterday evening. Did I take them away? Did I let him keep playing with them? Are they still in that bag? No. Damn.
I got down on my hands and knees and scoured the kitchen at baby level. I looked in all his drawers and cabinets. I pulled things out, I put them back in. I looked in the fridge, under the oven, under the cabinets. I then crawled into the living room. I tore apart the couch cushions. Reached under the couch, crawled into the bathroom. Searched the drawers in there and then onto his room and then my room. I'm sure you get the picture.
I then tried to sit down and think like a logical normal person. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I swear.
Dan had my spare car keys in his car (brilliant aren't we?), but maybe he had seen them somewhere? I called him. He laughed at me and no he hadn't seen them. He also started on his lecture about putting my keys in the same place whenever I get home. I've heard this lecture before. Damn him.
Maybe they're in the diaper bag? I called my in-laws and tried to sound calm and put together. They laughed at me. They also offered to come and get me and take me to work, that was sweet, but not necessary as they are about twenty minutes away. And no keys by the way.
I had to go to work, so I called a colleague and told him my story. He laughed at me. But he also said he would come and pick me up. Then he told the story to the rest of my department. They laughed at me.
I'm at work now, on my lunch break. I still have no keys and will need a ride home. The in-laws are going to drop off Joaquin this afternoon. Tomorrow is a holiday for me and I'm going to spend a wonderful baby free afternoon cleaning my house and looking for my keys.