Up All Night

We had a lovely Sunday, working in the garden and being family.  By dinner time I was having to fight off fantacies of staying home with my kids.  I get depressed if I think too much about the life I wish I had.

I had the worst time getting to sleep last night.  I lay in bed for an hour and a half, turning and tossing, unable to shut off my brain.  I finally got up, had a smoke and started in on the Sunday New York Times Crossword.  I finally got to sleep at 11:30.  This is rare for me, I’m usually so exhausted I fall asleep in minutes.  J woke up screaming at midnight.  Nothing I could do for her.  She finally got quiet at 3:06.  My alarm goes off at 3:50 so I can hit the snooze button once or twice before getting out of bed.  Today I hit it a few more times and then had to rush to get to work only three minutes late.

Today I Really wish I could just stay home.  I’m so sleepy I feel like I could be sick, I’m queazy and dizzy.  At least I’ve got interesting work, otherwise I might be falling asleep on my key board.  Today might be one of those days I use my extra just-in-case-the-kids-get-sick hours for myself; I’m afraid that if I stay the whole day I won’t be able to drive home and get there in one piece.

I wish I could figure out what it is that keeps J up at night.  Most of the time she sleeps well now, often even staying in her own bed all night.  But the nights she’s up, she’s up and there’s nothing I can do to help her get comfortable and settle back down.  I’d like to say that she’s just teething or it’s just gas, the 2 catch-all explanations for babies who cry with no apparent reason, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s something else.  Alas, there really isn’t anyway  to know.  She doesn’t have enough vocabulary to tell me what’s going on.  The pattern seems to be Sunday and Monday nights so I can’t help but wonder if it’s that she sees me getting her stuff ready for daycare and then has bad dreams about her Mama being gone.  Sigh… interrupted with a massive, jaw cracking yawn.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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