Attempted Murder of a Matchmaker

Sunday night I went upstairs to pull a “Love You Forever” after the boys were in bed. Instead of climbing a ladder and breaking into their window like a freak (how did that seem so normal reading it as a kid?), I opted for the stairs.

As I reached the top landing, a blast of heat hit me in the face. No, not a raging inferno. Worse.

A broken AC unit in the middle of summer.

You know, summer in Texas, the 3 (to 6) months of the year the state tries to burn its residents alive. #thanksobama

I grabbed the boys and brought them downstairs, along with a crib mattress and a pack-n-play.

Beck: Mom – why are you making me a bed on the floor? Can I sleep on your bed?
Me: No way. It’s a sleepover! Sleepovers happen on the ground! Isn’t that fun?
Beck: I think you just want more room to sleep.
Me: Kill joy. (Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.)

These guys thought the sleepover in our room was SO FUN they went to bed at never o’clock.

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I think at one point the 4 of us were sleeping comfortably. For maybe 12 seconds. Then one of my guys woke up horribly disoriented, sprinted in circles for a few seconds, then peed his pants. (I won’t embarrass him by divulging his name, but let’s just say he’s struggled with this as long as we’ve been married.) Another guy woke up cried for an hour and a half until no less than 6 pillows were nestled into his makeshift bed.

That, combined with at least 4 bathroom trips (hello, last 5 weeks of pregnancy), made for a sleepless night for everyone.

An angel appeared at 8am, in the form of an AC repairman. He fixed the problem and life resumed as normal.

Except sleepless nights = 9am naps for grumpy children.

Hutton fell asleep immediately (because if there’s anything he loves as much as food, it’s sleep).

Have I mentioned my adult-onset pregnancy acne? Because it’s a real struggle right now. 90% of the time I spend during their nap/rest time is either looking up ridiculous crafts to satisfy my insane nesting urges or trying DIY facial masks that use some concoction of weird oils and “clear your skin and prevent heart disease in only 20 seconds!”

Up side: they’re natural. Down side: your face smells like Sprouts for 82 hours.

All I wanted to do during their nap was fix my face. Imagine my frustration when my eldest wasn’t cooperating with my “me” time. He knew I was weaseling him to sleep 5 hours earlier than our usual rest time, so he was acting a fool instead of sleeping.

After hearing him jump off the bed for the umpteenth time I maddled (march-waddled) my way into the bedroom, flung the door open, and said,

Me: IF YOU JUMP OUT OF THAT BED ONE MORE TIME, SON… *slight pause* …what are you looking at?
Beck: Uhhhh….why do you have a beard?
Me: Oh yeah. That’s unimportant. What I was saying is IF YOU JUMP OUT OF —

…and then we both just dissolved into giggles.

When the person making threats looks exactly like matchmaker from Mulan, you can only keep it together for so long.

Image-2Long story short, both nap time and the poop mask were a bust.

As was the AC fix, actually.

A few hours after the guy left, I called Taylor.

Me: Uh…the upstairs is great. Subzero temps. The downstairs, though? Well over 80º.
Taylor: areyoukiddingme. Go outside and see if it’s even running. And check the switch while you’re at it.
Me: It is not running. Also, this.

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Oddly enough, when switched to the “on” position, AC units work great.

So, anyway, that’s the day I both grew a beard and was the victim of attempted murder by an air conditioner repairman.

Or something.

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