My kids are trying to kill me.
I’m pretty sure we’ve discussed this before. But this time I really mean it!
In the last five days, I’ve gotten 19 hours of interrupted sleep total. Maaayyyyybe 20 if I round up. Because I’m paranoid and keep track of my sleep, I know this is an unfortunately low, yet accurate number.
You’d think by now my two older ones SHOULD know how to sleep through the night. They SHOULD know how to use the bathroom. They SHOULD be able to go back to sleep on their own. But does any of this register with them at 2am, 3am AND 4am? No.
I thought I had brainwashed them enough to know to call out for DAD up in the night, not MOM.
But alas. A Mom makes the bad dreams go away at 2am, takes the toddler to the bathroom at 3am, feeds the baby at 4am and then is up packing school lunches a few hours after that.
I am a Mom. A very very tired Mom who rarely sleeps longer than 3 hours at a time. And I happen to make my family’s world go round with my 10 minute Texas Toast recipe, my semi-clean house, my IV drip of Diet Coke and the large bags under my eyes.