Home > motherhood, sleep deprivation > Sucks to be me

Sucks to be me

I’m in a pity-party mood. Woe to me.

It’s really not all that bad. I feel like I’m a whiny bint for being as cranky and pitiful as I feel, which, of course, adds to the mood.

The Child is not sleeping. It’s been off and on for the past two weeks but this weekend it was particularly egregious, with a finale last night of not sleeping (unless she was held) for more than about 40 minutes. The Husband held her for a while, but I slacked off and slept in an hour each morning of the weekend so I felt guilty. And, for the short stretches whens he was asleep, I’d just toss and turn and get my mind caught in think-loops. Random, ridiculous, semi-dreaming think-loops. Pointless speculation on what Joss Whedon really intended with Tara’s plotline.  Is it morally right for me to let my mother drive, even though I know she can’t see well? Am I culpable if she kills someone? Then, just as it spins off into surreal Muppet Show spinoffs, with my father-in-law singing “Stop Children” while Gonzo juggles baby bottles, and I start to drift into real sleep —


And I start all over again.

So I feel like I thinking through peanut butter, as The Best Friend says.  And I have a lot to think about — we had no internet or phone for several days (hence the lack of posting) and when we got back in touch with the real world we found out that The Husband’s grandfather is in the hospital again. There are tons of family issues there that also keep you up at night, but I won’t bore anyone with the details.

No more than I will bore you with the details of why my mother is — as ever — pissed at me. And going to get more pissed when I explain that I know she wants to see her granddaughter, but I need an occasional weekend to relax and I’ve spent seven out of the past nine weekends with family, and family ain’t relaxing.

And it’s hot. I hate the heat. I hate sweating and the glare headache I get, no matter what kind of hat I wear, and I hate the thick air and the fact that there’s no shade on my block and I hate the smell of dog poop in the sun and I hate the shock of air conditioning slapping your skin so it shrinks down too tight on your flesh and the way that the sweat starts to dry immediatly, like a salt lick down your spine. I hate the lethargy and the fact that I can’t get enough water to feel hydrated.  I hate the way that my thighs chafe and the way that sweat pools between my toes.

Wow. I’m really whiny today. I’ll stop now.

  1. June 26, 2007 at 12:47 am

    good news is that in print, your whining comes up with delightful phrases like “air conditioning slapping your skin so it shrinks down too tight on your flesh…like a salt like down your spine.”

    I hate it when I hate. It means I’m pms’ing or haven’t been sleeping.

    here’s hoping you get some rest.

  2. karriew
    June 28, 2007 at 1:47 pm

    At least the heat is supposed to break tomorrow. Small comfort, I’m sure.

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