Sometimes it's a good thing I don't know the future. Yesterday I was so tired that my speech was slurred at times. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but keeping my four kids' names straight was a challenge in and of itself. Not to mention changing diapers, getting little bodies out of pajamas and into play clothes (I missed one--Audrey stayed in her pajamas until right before lunch), halting fights, washing dishes, spraying poopy clothes, and wiping spit-up off my arms and the carpet. A shower for me? Ha. All I could think about was not losing my cool and making it until bedtime--bedtime for my kids and for me.
Why the fatigue? Well, I was functioning on one hour of sleep. Yes. One little hour. The reason for such a piddly amount of sleep? A combination of a sick, gassy, grumpy five-month-old and a two-year-old terrified of "funderstorms."
Which brings me to today. I've survived another rough night. Today I am probably functioning on four hours of sleep. Better than one, yes. But certainly not the eight hours of slumber I dreamily envisioned yesterday. Last night was, in many ways, a repeat of the night before. Rudy and I went to bed at 9:00. Aaron started fussing. And then the "funderstorms" started shortly after. My sweet husband, (who has an important presentation at work today) comforted his terrified daughter. He took one look at me and carried Aaron out of the room. I slept from 11:30 until 1:45. Then we traded. I took the couch, the congested baby, and the "funderstorms."
So I'm facing another day with four kids six and under and very little sleep. Honestly, I'm just too tired to feel angry or frustrated. I'm a mom with young kids, and I know that I'm on a path that has been wearily walked by many others. I'm still incredibly grateful for this journey. On that note, I'm also really thankful for my cup of coffee this morning.
