Carter’s driving me crazy

Not crazy in the ‘irritated’ or ‘angry’ sense — he’s way too adorable for that — but crazy in the ‘I am losing my mind’ sense.

Last night I woke up around 5AM, holding what I believed to be Carter, and thinking that I had fallen asleep while holding him. (This is crazy to start with, by the way, because Amber had put him down the last time.)

I was certainly awake, because I actually got out of bed and walked into the other room, but I was certainly also at least partially asleep, because I clearly recall looking at the bundle I was holding in my arms and seeing little feet sticking out the bottom of it. What concerned me at the time is that those little feet were cold and not moving, and there was a blanket over his face that I needed to get off of him!

So I rushed into the other room where there was more light, cradling my little bundle — where I met Amber, who was awake and feeding…. Carter.

I exclaimed to her that the baby wasn’t moving. She said “Josh, I have the baby!” My reply was, obviously enough to me, “not that baby, the other baby!” I continued to try and remove the fabric that was covering his face, even, I think, placing my bundle gently down on the changing pad so I could use both arms.

It slowly dawned on me that I was, in fact, trying to remove the cover of my pillow, not a baby’s swaddle — I had already successfully removed the pillowcase, so it’s a good thing I failed, otherwise we would have had some feathers to clean up.

After laughing herself to tears Amber ordered me back to bed.

The only things that scares me about this situation is

• I have never done this kind of thing before (sort of lucid half-sleepwalking)
• My dad was well known for having a similar issue, and I was hoping I had dodged that particular set of broken genetic codes.

He once woke up my Mom by jumping up and down on the bed attempting to clear away the spiders from the ceiling. On a waterbed. More frighteningly, he woke her on a different occasion trying to open the door to their third story balcony to escape what in his mind was a huge fire.

Needless to say, Amber has locked our (second story) balcony doors. And I’m thinking about going to bed snugly in a sleeping bag.

What’s amazing is that even up to a week ago I have been playing one of my favorite stories to people, and now I’m doing it myself. There’s a fantastic comedian named Mike Birbiglia who has something similar (but even more serious) going on. If you want a good laugh, listen to his incredible tale.

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