By my best estimation, the last time I had a full night of uninterrupted sleep was the spring of 2006. Usually, I am able to function well enough (sometimes even awesomely) on sleep broken by babies chewing on my boobs, or toddlers with a need for water (or bathroom or music or a re-tuck), or big kids with nightmares. I have managed to push through for five plus years.
Until today. For what ever reason, five years of unrest caught up with me today. I have never in my whole fucking life been so tired, not even after those 12 hour workday followed by a night of drinking and dancing and puking. Not even during those first few weeks with the babies, when all they did is nurse and shit and cry and nurse and shit.
Some people might have locked their children in a safe room, threw some Cheerios on the floor, and slept. But I am not some people. Instead of being practical, I drank a big ass pot of coffee and said to the little ones, "Let's make cookies."
Here is the thing about caring for children when you are dead ass tired: You become completely apathetic. Mom, can I feed the dog these Santa gel clings off the window? Sure, whatever. Mom, can I take off all my clothes and diaper and pee on the floor? Hey, man. Be free. Mom! Can we make 8,000 sugar cookies and a huge fucking mess? Absolutely. Exhaustion puts you into survival mode - whatever it takes to keep them quiet.
Henry so enjoyed eating powder sugar off the counter. And when he pointed to the bag and said "More? More?" I gave him a whole cup full. Why not.
We waited until Katie came home from school to decorate the cookies. She spread icing on one, ate it, then left. Julia decorated two and declared "You do the rest, Mommy." Henry ate four cookies and a cup of powdered sugar and was a maniac the rest of the day.
I was left with four dozen cookies to decorate and a disaster of a kitchen.
There is a lesson in all this, but I am too tired to figure it out.
2 weeks ago