4:06 Am. Darkness. And then, from somewhere to my left...
"Tsssst. Thhhhhht. Tsssth." Rustle, rustle. "Ah Da? Ah dadadadat." Then, in Batman fashion, KABAM! White fireworks as a little fist punches the air, seeking an audience, and landing precisely on my eyeball.
Sigh. All it took was one early morning of thunder, lightening, snow plows, and snow to totally convince the Little Nipper that we all wake up at 4 now. There was little more to do than lay quietly, and hope she'd soon go to sleep. I was also able to ruminate on the fun of sleeplessness. I don't know how mothers who work outside of the home do it, other than they must trade off with their spouse and probably not breastfeed all night. (Ha- you thought I'd get through a post without breasts. In a Chris Griffin voice I say to you, "Boobies!") For those single, working, nursing moms, I totally bow down and kiss your feet.
This isn't college anymore- sleepless nights don't mean I get to down a Red Bull the next day and wander about, all wide-awake and with a cute belly showing anymore. Or, that one memorable Biology exam that I stayed awake all night studying for, drinking an entire six-pack of one liter Mountain Dews, to have the professor come up to me mid-exam very concerned that I hadn't blinked in the previous 45 minutes. Sigh. Nope, these are the days where I have to plan my caffeine carefully, as it zips like lightening to the child, who is more than willing to then spend the day all wide-awake, and with a cute belly showing.
Sleepless, but the day must go on. Go on, it does, and usually consists of more than one occasion of staring at the calendar, wondering which day it is. Or, standing in the kitchen for ten minutes, searching high and low for the lid to a raisin canister, to find it in the other hand when I reach the point of despair and try to fashion a new one from plastic wrap. Very often, the day ends with the baby finally going to sleep as I sit in my dark bedroom, Mr. Clarateaches sleeping blissfully unaware that the most hilarious local news at 11 is happening on the muted, closed-captioned TV. Hilarious laughter is very hard to do without waking up a baby.
Fortune smiled on me- by 5:20, my little babbling bambina fell back to sleep and I was able to catch 25 more minutes of sleep before Mr. Clarateaches' alarm clock went off. Time for a new day... where the heck am I?
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2 comments:
the truth is... it was not raisins but prunes.
I wish it was prunes. Ahh, prunes. Prune-tini's.
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