I know I haven't posted in awhile, and I really don't have the time to post right now, because Sophia is wailing from her crib, "Mommy mommy mommy! Mooooommmmyy!"
You can tell she's sad, because when she's not stuck in her crib or welcoming me home from the grocery store, she calls me "MOM." Like a 12 year old might. Eye roll. "MOM."
Anyhow, the reason I haven't had time to write, and I shouldn't be here right now, is that sweet little girl singing the blues in the next room. I recently told my mom that it's not so hard when Sophia doesn't sleep one night. The next day I'm tired, but I can function, and it's not so bad. The second day I'm a little stupid, but I can see my real true self from where I stand. By the third day I am brain dead and despairing of ever sleeping or thinking straight again.
Right now I'd just love to have that third-day-level of functioning. I don't think she's ever slept. At all. Ever. I spend my nights walking her around in circles, staring off into the dark until it undulates before my eyes and I wonder if I'm about to plummet into a full-scale sleep deprivation hallucination. Days find me sitting and staring at things that don't require near that level of attention. Like a shoe. Or my breakfast, which is pretty much limited to whatever food the boys have failed to remove from the table after they ate breakfast.
You know, sleep is such a mundane detail of life. Who thinks about sleep? Me. I think about sleep. I fantasize about it. Because sleep is only a mundane detail of life when YOU GET TO SLEEP. It amazes me just how much this one little part of my day can completely upend the rest of my day. That seems like a design flaw, in my humble opinion.
I just said to Sophia (who is now sitting next to me, sipping on a cup of theoretically soothing milk), "No, no. No spitting milk between your toes, sweetie." She concurred, and is now flossing her milky toes with my shirt. Two year olds are just. so. weird.
I don't know what to do. It's not like she's being awake in the middle of the night just to make my life difficult, and I don't know how to help her sleep. Today she fell asleep standing up, leaning against the couch. Okay, it was kind of funny. I may have laughed when Raphi put a Tech Deck (one of those little plastic skateboards?) on her forehead. But still. Girlfriend is off-kilter.
Clay is, of course, here to help too. But he already gets by on about five hours of sleep a night, so our deal is that he stays up with her on the weekends, and I take the weeknights. This is sort of a fake deal, because it's not like he sleeps all that well when I'm getting up every hour through the night. I, on the other hand, gleefully abandon her to his care on the weekends and sleeeeeep. I am sort of selfish that way.
A few days ago my mom asked how Sophia had slept the night before.
"Huh?" That's my standard first answer these days when asked just about any question. "Oh. No, she didn't sleep. But I've given up hope, and that's the important thing."
She laughed, but I MEANT IT.
So I'm sorry I've been quiet around here. We're all fine, if a little tired. But the good news is that I've given up hope.