Raise your hand if you are downright exhausted. Good. I see at least ONE of you out there raised your hand. I also heard the one of you who shouted loudly at me – something along the lines of, “HELL YES… I AM EXHAUSTED.”
I’m tired. Oh so tired.
A few nights ago, Willow went to bed at 8:30pm. We were like, “Ahhh… mommy and daddy time” (and not THAT kind of mommy and daddy time – just cuddle and TV time because seriously, some nights that is all we can muster) and we settled in to a mindless show that allowed us to decompress.
Until she woke up at 9:15pm.
Then again at 10:05pm.
Then again at 11:30pm.
Then again at 12:45am but this time she stayed awake for a few hours watching Toopy & Binoo in our bed.
Then fell asleep in the Jeep as daddy drove her around at 4am.
Then nursed off of me for at least two hours intermittently but I lost track because I am now a nursing ninja and can nurse her while lying beside her and I don’t really fully wake up.
Then woke up at 8am and babbled until I gave her my iPhone to play with until my retinas stopped burning and I could muster a “good morning.”
I woke up and Tweeted:
Yeah. I really, really, really, really wanted strong coffee and seriously, would not have turned down a sedative at that point. Hell, I would have taken a horse tranquilizer if it meant some solid sleep hours.
So, I did what every other mom does in that moment. I Facebook messaged my mom and wrote her a guilt-ridden message about my tiredness and asked her if she and my dad were coming into the city for breakfast because I needed some parental support. Unfortunately, she and dad were prepping for an open house so they weren’t able to help me out.
I then texted my husband, who at this point had bailed on me and was asleep in Willow’s room, and said, “Are you still here or are you running because I need coffee.” I may have thrown in an expletive or three. And yes, I was so tired that I couldn’t even muster up the effort to get out of bed to see if he was here. I texted him. Like loving wives do. After wrestling the iPhone from Willow’s grip and after prying my eyes open with toothpicks. It was all kinds of awesome.
I did manage to get out of bed, get Willow dressed, get myself dressed and drag us all out for breakfast but damn was I tired. In fact, I looked at Steve and said, “Dude. I’m ultra-sensitive today so if you are going to be sarcastic, do not aim it in my direction because I will break the sarcasm in half, throw it on the ground and spit on it. Then I will light it on fire and videotape it burning and show it you every time you so much as think of being sarcastic around me.”
I’m not the nicest when I’m tired.
Okay, so the point of this whole post? To see if anyone else out there is as tired as I am some days and people… I’m not looking for advice like, “Go to bed earlier” or “Let her cry it out” or “This too shall pass”… No. I want to roll around in the misery of being so tired with other people who are as tired so we can all look at each other and say, “Damn. You look mighty fine with those giant black bags under your eyes and those incoherent sentences? I understand them perfectly.”
If you fit THAT bill, comment below so we can get together and hook up an IV line of dark roast coffee while we share our war stories.