For real. I am so not kidding. Forget a new watch, purse or new clothes…my needs are pretty darn simple this year. I would give my front teeth for a full night’s sleep. Heck, at this point, you can have my husband’s too.
I know I’m not the only sleep deprived mama on the planet. Far from it. So, I know several of you will empathize with my plight. My sweet Baby J is four months now…so I’m going on sixteen weeks plus (actually add on about eight more for the last two miserable months of my pregnancy where sleeping was darn near impossible) with not sleeping more than a few hours at a time. And it’s beginning to take its toll.
First of all, I look like I’ve been hit by a truck…make it a Mack one at that. My bags under my eyes I am certain will never ever go away. I walk around in a fog mumbling incoherently to anyone that will listen (usually just the dogs) and can’t keep simple things straight, such as my children’s names and where I live (can’t tell you how many times I have missed the turn to our house post baby). Thank goodness for my hubby and GPS.
Now, Baby J is beginning to sleep longer and longer. However, mama is still trained to wake up every three hours on the dot. Or, if Baby J and I are both sleeping…Murphy’s Law, one child will have a bad dream, or another will have an accident or the dogs will bark all night long (because I have decided it is a conspiracy against me).
And what’s this business about “sleep when the baby sleeps?” Whatever. These people obviously don’t have children. That would be just fine and dandy if my kids didn’t have to wear clean clothes, eat meals or need to be driven anywhere. As I write this, Baby J is sleeping soundly, and I am trying to make this deadline while my dogs are about to pee in the house, my other kids are running around naked screaming “what’s for dinner!” and my house looks like a war zone. This, my friends, is why I don’t “sleep when the baby sleeps.”
I did have two nights off kid duty though. For those of you who read my blog (hi mom), I got to go on my annual Girl’s Weekend trip last month. And Murphy’s Law again, (who is Murphy anyway, and I’m seriously going to write a book on this phenomenon…but I digress…) Baby J slept TWELVE hours straight both nights for my husband. How unfair is that? And apparently, she never ever cried ONE time the whole 48 hours I was gone (Really? I just don’t buy it). And of course instead of taking full advantage of a kid free weekend, I stay up until the wee hours of the morning with my girlfriends and end up getting less sleep than I normally do. I am still trying to recover from that one.
So unless I take a solo trip to a spa (or a shack in the woods as long as I’m alone, I’m not gonna be picky at this point), I’m pretty sure this eight hours of sleep is nowhere in my near future. In fact, from what I hear from other mamas, it just gets worse when they are teenagers and have a curfew. Great, I’ve got 18 more years to go. Maybe they will have invented a cure for under eye bags by then…
Until next time,