Friday, October 14, 2011
He owns me (as in OWNS me).
It's a somewhat pathetic feeling when your world becomes dominated by the urge (or desperation) to sleep. Right now, I'd give up anything for a nap, even a three hour stretch of solid sleep at night. Before you have a baby you think, "I've gone without sleep, how bad could it be?" So I'll let you in on a secret: bad. I've gone 48 hours without sleep many times, even ran on 4-5 hours per night for a week. This is different. It's never sleeping more than 2.5 hours at once over many weeks (or months). When you actually do sleep, it's very light because your subconscious knows a baby is about to cry - so don't get too comfortable! And no caffeine. Ouch.
The little man has been sleep-rocking my world the last week. He has been going to bed at 2 a.m. (right!? Insanity!) and only teases nap time by sleeping for 20 minutes during the day. I'm reading sleep books (although lack of sleep makes it difficult to focus), doing all the "tricks" to help him fall asleep earlier (doesn't help Lincoln but Tyce is out like a light), and I'm laying off the Diet Coke. Hopefully this is a phase. A very short, little phase.
To me, sleep sounds better than eating Nutella out of the jar while shoe shopping with a black American Express. So if you'll excuse me for the short posts, my focus lies elsewhere (like how excited I am for Lincoln to conk off so I can get a little drool on my own pillow)! All I seem to have a passion for lately is a few hours of shut-eye, and how sad is that? My main point: baby boy owns me. Am I the one in charge here? I forget...