Crocodile Dundee Has Moved In At The Jedi Manor

I just stole this off of my friend Brandi’s Facebook page.  Hubs did not think that it was as funny as I did.

This was basically ME today, people.  Because when I woke up this morning?  Well, Hubs was gone.  Gone… As in he was already at work, because the clock said 8:01, and Amy was firing texts off to my phone that said, “How are you?”  And that, people, woke me up.

And I really WAS still in my pajamas at 9:00 this morning.

And I was still in them at 9:30.

This isn’t like me.  Oh, I put the pajamas on early in the evenings, when I’m ready to just stay at home, throw the towel in, and call it a day by popping corn dogs into the oven for dinner.  But I’m a morning person, and I can’t remember ever still being asleep when Hubs left the house for work.

With my disheveled hair and the enormous bags under my eyes, I looked like the stereotypical woman who walks out of her 5th wheel trailer that’s permanently parked on blocks.  She steps out onto the upside down, plastic milk crate that’s used for a front step, with pink sponge rollers in her hair, and a Camel cigarette glued into the fuchsia lipstick on her face.  And then she yells (HOLLAS!) at her oldest son to PLEASE!  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!  STOP PUTTING COCKLEBURS IN YOUR BROTHER’S HAIR!  So really?  What else was there for me to do, except start pinning things on Pinterest?

Except I haven’t jumped on the Pinterest train yet or started putting pictures of adorable cupcakes that I’ll never bake into a folder called FOR THE KIDS.

And also?  The teenage cousins at the family reunion last week let me know that I’m officially the last human being alive who doesn’t have Facebook on her cell phone.  They even offered to remedy this situation for me, by downloading the Facebook app and getting me set up.

I felt as old as Angela Lansbury.

But what I DO have is an almost (but not quite!) four-month-old baby who has been swaddled his entire life while he sleeps at night.  Oh, my!  He does love the super-tight swaddling.  And on Friday night, my swaddled baby SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT, PEOPLE!!



The night.


The first time ever.

Thank you, Jesus!

But for the last two weeks, Thing 2 has been fighting his swaddle like he’s wrestling a crocodile in his sleep.  He flips and he grunts and he struggles and he pulls his arms up, and then SNAP!  He breaks free of the swaddled blanket, and HIS ARMS!  HIS ARMS ARE FLAILING!  AND HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!  HE CAN’T SLEEP WITH HIS ARMS LOOSE!  SOMEONE HELP HIM!

So his mama re-swaddles him.  And then he busts out of that, too.  And this has been going on for two weeks.  Did I happen to mention that?  Because we have had a main dish of ALL THE NOT SLEEPING for fourteen days, with a side dish of EXHAUSTION.

So last night?  At 1:30 this morning?  Well, Thing 2 busted out of his swaddle for the third time, and I (in my typical, very-pleasant, oh-so-incredibly-sweet nighttime voice) said, “Fine!”  And I ripped the swaddle off of Thing 2.  And then I announced the new proclamation that HERE, YE!  HERE, YE!  THE SWADDLING AT THE JEDI MANOR IS OFFICIALLY OVER, FOREVER AND EVER, AMEN!  ANYONE WHO SWADDLES THE BABY WILL SPEND THE DAY IN THE STOCKADES IN THE CITY’S CENTER!

And that is why Thing 2 and I were awake from 1:30 to 5:30 this morning, because did I mention also?  MY ARMS!  MOM, MY ARMS ARE FLAILING!  THEY KEEP HITTING ME IN THE FACE WHILE I’M SLEEPING!  I CANNOT SLEEP LONGER THAN FIFTEEN MINUTES WITH MY ARMS LOOSE!

And I simply grunted, “It’s your own fault.  You keep fighting the swaddle like a crocodile wrestler.  Now deal with the consequences.  The swaddle is so five-minutes ago.  We are done.”

And then Thing 2 said, “Swaddle me back up, Mom, so we can all sleep.  I promise not to wrestle the crocs while I’m wearing it.”

And I replied, “You are a lying liar with a diaper on fire.  You have tricked me into this before.  I do not believe you.”

And so that is why I was miserably tired at 5:3o this morning, and fell into a comatose sleep when Thing 2 finally crashed from all the Thrashing Exhaustion.

But he was back up at 6:00 this morning.

Which means that, after a thirty-minute nap, I was also back up at 6:00 this morning.

And then I had him back asleep at 6:30.

And then I crawled into my own bed and mumbled to Hubs, “It is morning.”

And the next thing I knew…


It was 8:01 on the bedside clock.  Hubs was gone.  Amy was texting me.  And I was still in my pajamas at 9:30 this morning.

Wish us luck, people.  Whatever Jesus is teaching me through this swaddling situation is apparently not working, because when I finally learn what He wants me to learn, I’m sure we’ll get back to ALL THE SLEEPING AT NIGHT.

(Because, y’all!  Thing 2 slept through the night on Friday night, and that is a Sleep Victory of the Gold Medal Variety.)

Until then, y’all can keep pinning things like FIVE WAYS TO GET YOUR UNSWADDLED BABY TO SLEEP AT NIGHT and call me to let me know what the article suggested, until I grab Ferdinand by the horns and get myself a Pinterest account like the rest of the tired moms out there have.

And just look at Thing 2:

Is there a cuter baby out there?

No.  There isn’t.

And his mama loves him.  Big time.  Even if he is struggling to learn the art of UNSWADDLED SLEEPING.

And on a note that is entirely UNRELATED to this blog post, I made a casserole for dinner tonight that the boy ate.  I know.  I’m still reeling from the shock.  Because, not only did he EAT IT, he asked for seconds and he told me that it was very possibly his new favorite food.

So there’s something to check off of my bucket list.

#37.  Cook a casserole that the  boy will voluntarily eat.



Happy Monday night.  May y’all sleep the sleep of people who do not have to deal with crocodile wrestlers at night.

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