Until December, my husband and I had it good…real good…we just didn’t know it.
At a recent barbecue with some neighbors, I admitted that with two kids I felt like I was a good parent – one that had it (somewhat) together – one that could throw cute parties for the kids and spend hours creating activities to do with the kids.
Then baby #3, Iggy, arrived and all h*ll broke loose.
He’s a good baby. A sweet baby. A loving, cuddly baby.
WHO DOESN’T SLEEP…like, ever. And whines more than his three year old brother (which means A LOT).
Six and a half months later, we’re still up at 12:30, 3 and 5 am. And my brain is officially malfunctioning.
1. I have no clue what any of my kids’ names are at least half of the time.
I’ll ask one of the kids to do something and they will stare at me blankly…and then I will get annoyed until I realize I called them the name of their brother/teacher/plumber/favorite cartoon character. I’m pretty sure the median is about 2 names before I get the right one nowadays.
2. I am the inconsiderate person at the grocery store.
I was at Giant feeling very accomplished that I – (#1) remembered everything on the list and (#2) had a 3 year old, newly potty trained kid with me and he didn’t wee himself. I got in the checkout line, unloaded my massive cart of food, and then watched the lady behind me (who was holding a ridiculously large, mylar balloon) give me the stink eye. I wondered if Little Guy had passed one of his stink bombs or made an inappropriate observation (the current favorite is, “Yous a woman. Yous got boobies.” – Don’t judge, please.) When the cashier got to me, she said, “This is the express line” and pointed to a miniature sign above the register. I apologized profusely and offered to move lanes (if you know me, you know I am a rule follower by nature), and she waved me off and started ringing me up. Mylar balloon lady muttered in disgust and left the line. Mylar balloon lady – Why didn’t you SAY something when I started unloading? I obviously am barely holding it together and it cannot be assumed I saw the miniature express lane sign. And in my defense, when relaying the story to my husband today, I went to point out the sign and it wasn’t there anymore (or it was still too small for me to notice). Either way, Lady, I apologize for unintentionally making you wait an extra 30 seconds to buy that ridiculously important balloon.
3. I put things away in bizarre places. (But to be fair, so does my equally sleep deprived husband).
The salt is in the fridge…with one of my oldests’ socks. I haven’t seen my car keys in a week. If you can’t find it in my house, chances are I can’t either.
4. I am an absolutely embarrassingly horrible friend.
I have the most wonderfully smart, kind, and patient friends. And I cannot seem to get it together enough to call, write, or schedule a play date. If you are (hopefully still) my friend, I swear, it is not you, it’s me. Call me. I can make plans and keep them, I just can’t initiate them until I’m getting more than 2 hours of shut-eye a night.
5. I look so disheveled at school drop off that I am pretty sure the teachers wonder what my problem is.
My kids make it to school – on time – so that’s a win, right? You’ll forgive me that he forgot his backpack, has no change of clothes, or appears to be wearing pajama pants, right? And forget the circus of getting us into school – massively large baby on my hip, three year old holding one hand, his five year old brother holding the other. Its like a game of Red Rover, and if you get in our way, our arm linked chain is going to stop you in your path.
I know this sleepless baby stage ends and that I will miss it eventually, but it is tough to see through the fog while you are in the thick of it. I think it is also tough for others to see you need some help – some compassion – and understanding that you just aren’t 100% yourself without adequate sleep.
What have been your biggest “sins” when you have been lacking sleep?