Third Shift

I knew it was coming.  Mike works first shift.  With saws.  Big, scary saws that hunger for fingers and human blood.  He needs to sleep before he clocks in.  Which means I’m on third shift with the kiddos.  Which means I don’t sleep for more than two hours at a time.  That’s on a good day.  And it’s usually during the day after my (wonderful, fabulous, life-saving) mother shows up.

Recently (read: within the past two days) Harper has decided that falling asleep is for suckers, and she fights it, Gladiator vs. Lion style.  June, as well, has taken to a recent bout of fussiness and all I can say is bless the poor fucker who has a baby with actual colic.  Because this is nowhere near that bad and there are times that I need to go into another room and curl up into a corner and weep silently to myself for a few moments.  And we’re only three weeks in.  Yee Haw.

Anyway, I’ve discovered Harper’s kryptonite.  It’s this video:

Bad news is that that video is so…fucking…disturbing.  For real.  I try to play it for her with her back to the computer screen so that crazy shit doesn’t scramble her little brain.  I, on the other hand, can’t seem to tear my eyes away, although watching that time and again for the past two nights has given me the intense compulsion to tear my eyes out.

Jesus wept.  Who came up with that unholy mess?  And why does Harper like it so much.  Could she be the evil twin?  Could she be secretly trying to break me down already?  I thought the mind games didn’t start until they developed an understanding of the concept of manipulation.

I’m so screwed.

I get them back, though. Every morning, when they’re trying to sleep, I wake them up to this:

Gotcha, kids! Har har.