“Whaaaaa! Whaaaaa! Whaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”
In my dream the sound was a siren. I was getting pulled over for speeding. In real life, the sound was my newborn and his siren cry was pulling me out of bed for a feeding.
I ricocheted down the dark hallway like a pinball. “Bump. Bang. Bump. Bang.” (Which could be lyrics to a Black Eyed Peas song.. but alas, they are not. They are the sound of a mom- literally bouncing off the walls.) A Great Salt Lake of tears streamed down my face. Not from the pain of ricocheting off walls… but from the pain of sheer exhaustion.
“You can do this.. you’ve done it before…this season of mothering doesn’t last long and you’ll miss it when it’s over. It’ll be ok.” I mumbled as I bounced. I considered slapping myself for being unsympathetic. Instead, I argued back:“I don’t care how long it lasts.. or if I’ll miss it eventually…I’m TIRED, NOW. I need sleep or I’ll lose it!” ( Just a tip… a sign that you’ve already lost it.. is when you are arguing with yourself and feel fully justified in slapping yourself. )
I took a deep breath before I picked up my little hunger siren.. I mean, my newborn. Together we headed for our nursing spot on the couch. I wondered if I’d be able to go back to sleep when we were finished… (ok- I desperately hoped we would.) I had to force my eyes to focus on the glowing read out on the stove top: 4:43 a.m. “I need to get up to get the other kids ready for school by 5:30.” While settling into the miraculous comfort of nursing…I struggled to do the time-math… “It takes 45 minutes to nurse…so I’ll have …UGH. 2 minutes to sleep. There is no point going back to bed.”
Which is the last thing I remember before being awakened by my middle schooler. “Mom, Am I going to school today?” He asked-in a tone that communicated he was hoping the answer would be: “No.”
I looked at the cable box...”Crap. We’re gonna be late.”
It was 7:15. “UGH.” Somehow (more…)