At 4:30am the baby woke up screaming. I don't know how long he'd been crying since I was so deep into sleeping it could have been 20 minutes. I moved and felt El Guille at the foot of our bed anyway (the previous ministrations had been for naught.)
The baby and I decided to use El Guille's twin since its owner was away. I awoke at 6:00am, put the baby back in his crib, and tried to convince my protesting back to carry me to my bed. I nudged El Guille out of MY spot, hoping that it wouldn't awaken him for the day. I feel asleep on a sliver of bed. At 8:00, El Guille woke up—he slept in! Other Half got up and I got to sleep for another 45 minutes.
I wrenched myself from bed with a desire, a craving, and a plan forming in my mind.
I wanted a Coke.
Yes, NieNie, a Coke—an icy, shocking Coke that would keep me awake.
Yes, I am a bad girl.
Wednesday is my meetings day and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyelids from betraying me without chemical intervention. I tried to remember the half life of caffeine. I figured that if I drank half a Coke by 11am, I would be safe to nurse again by 5 or 6pm. I was saved from my dastardly plan by a friendly reminder that our meetings were canceled today.
It made me remember when El Guille turned 13 months and I fell off the wagon, hard. I drank one icy Diet Lime Coke on that equally frosty morning and THUD. I had one everyday that week.
What a binge! It was positively Roman!
So, no, Nie, I didn’t have a Coke.
I wanted one.
But I didn’t have one.