This morning, I told myself that I MUST write a useful blog post, lest you all get bored and abandon me. I had the best of intentions, but it’s very difficult for me to form coherent thoughts when I’ve had only 4 hours sleep.
Last night, DJ woke for a feeding around 11:00, which is typical. At seven months, he still wakes once or twice a night, and I’m OK with that, provided that he goes back to sleep right away. Which he did not. I knew there was going to be a problem when my husband tried to take him back to bed, and he cried and clung to me, as if he were about to be thrown into a pit of bears. Upon his return to cribdom, he proceeded to whimper and wail for an hour. After glaring daggers at my peacefully sleeping husband, and conducting an inner debate about whether or not I should go get DJ (because what if he’s sick? Or has a poopy diaper? It’s not like him to cry for so long!), I finally stomped into DJ’s room, and exclaimed,
“BUD! What is wrong with you? What’s all this fussing and cranking about?”
DJ immediately stopped crying, held out his arms and beamed from ear to ear, proudly displaying his brand-new teeth.
I hoisted him out of the crib, and carted him off to our room, where I checked his diaper, and examined him for signs of illness. All negative. In fact, he now seemed extraordinarily cheerful, happy, and calm. He wasn’t interested in nursing, and was quite content to just lay next to me and stare at the ceiling fan, while I grumbled to myself about how I’m just too old for this, and why on earth did I have three children? What was I thinking? I can’t handle three children!
Of course, DJ reminded me of why I had three children by being at his most charming and flirtatious, so I had to snuggle with him for a few minutes, being overwhelmed as I was by his cuteness and all. I finally marched him back to his bed, where he fussed and crabbed for another hour before finally, finally drifting off to sleep. 3 hours later, he was awake again.
Early this morning, after feeding and dressing all of my children, and getting Bee off to school, I collapsed on the sofa with a cup of coffee. When DJ took his morning nap, I snuggled with Cakes and dozed my way through Max & Ruby, and Team Umizoomi. After lunch, I returned to the sofa in grateful relief, because I put both children down for a nap, and they actually fell asleep. And so did I.
It is now 3:20 P.M., and I’m still wearing the same pajama pants and t-shirt (with tomato soup stain) that I slept in. My hair is a rat’s nest, my face is puffy, and I’m suffering from the groggy, leaden feeling that I always have when I sleep during the day. I have done absolutely nothing all day, except for change diapers, prepare food, and breastfeed. I halfheartedly rummaged through the refrigerator in search of supper fixings, and found only a container of leftover meat sauce, which I will attempt to make pizza with, if I can manage to summon enough energy to measure ingredients into the bread machine sometime in the next 15 minutes.
So, I’m sorry. Again, there will be no helpful blogging today. But I hope that this post reminds you that even on your very worst days, the days when you feel that no one else could possibly understand how exhausted and defeated you’re feeling, you will take heart, and know that you’re not alone.[print-me/]