Sleep has come to our household.
Sleep has come to our household.
I’m reluctant to say too much about it, or even to explain it (let’s just say that a combination of doctorly advice and husbandly heroism and sheer desperation and luck and blessedness probably have much to do with it.) I am terrified that if I even say the words aloud – sleep, glorious sleep, how I have missed you! – the gods will be quick to smite me for my arrogance and ingratitude. So I am reserving any commentary on this issue until I am reasonably certain that the gods are no longer paying attention, or until I have banked enough sleep that it doesn’t matter if they take it away from me again.
Because, sleep. Is precious. I want to hold it close and never let it go. So, don’t ask me how I accomplished this, what deity I prayed to, what divine strings I had to pull. Also, consider making sacrifices on my behalf. I hear that burnt offerings of 700-thread count Egyptian cotton bedsheets are particularly effective with the lesser Olympian gods.
Not shown: lesser Olympian gods.In the meantime… my body has become convinced that it is going into hibernation (understandable, really: why else would it suddenly, after nearly a year of never sleeping more than two to three hours at a stretch, find itself curled up in a den of quilts, laying completely, uninterruptedly still for almost seven hours? Two nights in a row? I would make the same mistake) and I find myself wandering around in a sponge-brained, stumble-clutz zombie state, fighting off sleepiness at every moment of the day. Is this normal? Does this pass? And more importantly: is there a cure for this, other than actually, you know, hibernating, which is not option because 24 hours/day minus 7 hours sleeping = 17 hours, during which I’m still on duty. Are multiple shots of expresso my only recourse, or does someone out there have a cure for sleep-induced narcolepsy?
(Listen to me, asking for remedies to ward off sleep. I must be dreaming.)
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Whoot!
?
But that little creature in that photo, now how could you sleep when he’s being such a cutie in those Egyptian sheets
Ah, where you lead I hope to follow…someday.
Chocolate is the remedy for sleepiness. All hail the Cadbury Cream Egg.
I have a 9 and 12 year old and without a doubt I am most terrified of perpetual lack of sleep. My youngest did not sleep through the night until he was 2 and those who have not been there? have no clue.
When he finally slept, I CRASHED. It took a bit for my body to recover and then I was good.
I hope this lasts for you, I really do.
Lack of Sleep: the story of my life…at least yours will one day outgrow all this & you'll block the memory of it out.
Mandy – the ‘more kids’ talk is kinda done
I don’t want to upset your sleep equilibrium so I won’t say anything except that your son looks delicious.
::squeal!!::
I’m so happy for you. No… cautiously optimistic
Here’s hoping there’s LOTS more where that came from. (Oh, and I know EXACTLY how you feel… I wanted to hibernate too after it was over…)
well, first, congrats!
mostly, in my totally professional opinion, you are probably just trying to catch up, you know?
next, i have no idea (again) how to help. except to say i hope you have the opportunity to finally INDULDGE!!
good luck, as always…
xo
b
GOD, I’m jealous!
I’m pretty sure every piece of advice I could possibly come up with would cause you to say I was talking out of my ass, so instead I’ll just say that I’m wishing you luck, you poor slee-deprived woman, you.
You see the above comment? About talking out of my ass?
That was mine. Sorry I suck, but apparently I cannot properly comment. Pathetic. But this alone should verify that indeed, I should never dole out advice. About anything. EVER.
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