Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your wise and helpful comments on my last post. You know, sometimes I feel like I just can't be bothered with blogging anymore—all the sponsored this, Pinterest-fodder that—and I think "eh, I'll just show myself out quietly, there's nothing in this for me anymore," and then you, all you wonderful people, weigh in on a subject with your thoughts and your advice and your experiences and I realize that what I've always valued most of all about writing online is the—sorry, barf alert—community it fosters, and I can't let go of that. I feel like I have hundreds of clever and sensible friends helping me out whenever I read through your comments—particularly your comments on pregnancy and parenting, though certainly not exclusively so—and I just want to let you know, straight up, that I truly do appreciate it.
Also, I promise I haven't been drinking. I don't know why I'm getting weirdly schmoopy, except to say that I'm grateful you're still around.
I realize that the only thing more boring than someone telling you about their kid's nap schedule is someone going wait, listen to this crazy dream I had last night!, so I'll make this quick, but the update is.....well, I guess there is no update. We're still sort of wildly inconsistent with the sleep thing, by which I mean that a) the day after I wrote that post, Hugo slept an incredible EIGHT HOURS AND TWENTY-THREE MINUTES—I, meanwhile, slept about two, because I kept waking up and thinking wait, is he actually breathing?—but b) that was a total flukey one-off, probably just designed to mess with me, and we mostly still get a bunch of two- and three-hour chunks at night, despite my best efforts to replicate, down to the letter, everything we did that day, excepting the morning visit to IKEA because come on, are you crazy. (But what if it was the morning visit to IKEA that set in motion whatever needed to be set in motion to get the EIGHT HOURS AND TWENTY-THREE MINUTES? Will I have to live out the rest of Hugo's infanthood browsing the SNIGLARS and the ULLGUMPS and the DUKENS just to get it to happen again?)
(Those are all real IKEA products, by the way. I did not make them up. I wanted to have made them up, but I did not.)
Okay, let's stop talking about sleeping children and examine the question of whether it is ever okay to "save" a parking spot for someone else by standing in it. Is that....something you are okay with people doing? Is that cool with you? I'm not entirely sure that's cool with me, and I came across someone doing it yesterday when I tried to pull into TJ Maxx with a cranky baby in the back so I could return an ill-chosen sweater in the six-minute time slot I estimated I had left before full-blown pandemonium ensued.
The parking lot was busy and I'd circled a couple of times before I finally saw this fabulous spot right in front of the store and I thought bingo, theeeere she is, so I put my blinker on, started to pull in, and then noticed that there was a woman standing right in the middle of it. Just....standing there. In the parking space. Doing nothing.
That's kind of weird, I thought, so I pulled in super slowly, assuming maybe she was just waiting for someone and didn't realize she was kind of in the way, but she started scowling at me and flapping her hands like she was motioning for me to go away and this is when I realized that she was trying to "hold" it for someone else and I thought OH HELL NO, so I just kept pulling in, like oh hey, no idea what YOU'RE doing but I'm parking my car in this rectangle where CARS go and finally she just rolled her eyes at me, flapped her hands a little more—including a particular finger, I'll let you guess which one—and walked away.
And then I immediately felt really guilty, like maybe she'd been saving it for her 93-year-old mother who was on one of those motorized scooters and really needed to be all up in TJ Maxx's front entrance like that, but a few minutes later I saw her looking at some faux fur vests with another (young, spry, able-bodied) friend, so apparently she was just doing the parking lot version of leaving your towel on the sun lounger, except WITH HER ACTUAL BODY.
Is that acceptable? I am mostly of the opinion that it is not acceptable—particularly in the dog-eat-dog world of a strip mall parking lot at 5pm on a weekday, where CARS ARE CIRCLING LIKE SHARKS, okay I am mixing up my metaphors, and also my animal kingdom—but I am curious to know whether this is common practice where you live, and whether it is okay.
I have never really been one to put up with much crap, but I do think having a kid has made me even less okay with it, like the time last week when I was crossing the street with Hugo asleep in the carrier on my chest and this guy in a huge SUV who was totally not paying attention (you know, to the LARGE PIECE OF MACHINERY he was in control of) just charged through the stop sign, not even pausing at the crosswalk, and I was so mad that I actually walked around to the driver's side window and shouted things like "You have a STOP SIGN!" and "I have a BABY!", which probably made me look a little crazy, what with all the gesticulating and all, but seriously, WHAT IN THE HELL. Do you see a large red sign that says STOP? You should stop! Do you see a pedestrian? Do not drive into the pedestrian! Is this something they are not teaching in Driver's Ed anymore or something?
Hmm, this entire blog post makes it sound like I have a lot of brawls in parking lots, which I assure you I do not—well, not normally—but I guess maybe there is just something in these postpartum hormones that is making me particularly feisty or something, because I sure seem to have had a few lately. Is it better or worse than the fact that my hair—already fairly thin, thank you, talk about adding insult to injury—has been falling out in handfuls ever since I gave birth? Did you know that would happen? I did not know that would happen. Ah, the magical glow of new motherhood. Such a special time.