New baby (baby #1) cries, rush to his side…a second longer of crying is a second longer he feels abandoned. My poor baby. New baby (baby #2) cries, quickly pick her up…G-d forbid she wake up my crazy toddler. My poor first born. New baby (baby #3) cries, continue to sleep because I might be able to get an extra five minutes laying horizontal. Poor me.
Sleep deprivation has reached an all time low. If I sit still for longer than five minutes and no one is talking to me, you can pretty much bet that I’m asleep. I’m grumpy, really beyond grumpy. I make the pregnant version of me look cheery. I have this constant dull headache that only large amounts of sleep will satisfy.
How is it that a little being that sleeps pretty much every minute of the waking hours, can have no interest in slumber once the sun goes down?!? I find myself so frustrated with my seven pound bundle of love at three am but regardless in the morning I cannot stay mad at this little lover man. So instead I save all my pleasantries for my high pitch “Hello there little man” conversations we have when we are alone.
Unfortunately the rest of my family isn’t getting the same pleasant version of me. I have negative ten tolerance for Drew’s shenanigans. When Gabby exclaims “Gabby do,” it now just translates to me doing it faster while she screams. And I have a sneaking suspicion my version of “please take the dog out” sounds much nicer in my head than it sounds when I’m asking Adam.
And once everyone has left for school and activities, or I have yelled at Drew for not washing his hands correctly, or I’m laying in bed (for the five seconds I’m allotted thanks to Noah), I’m left with this intense guilt. Guilt over being such a grouch, guilt over not playing with them more, guilt over my inabilities over the course of this pregnancy and reaching a climax with my sleep deprivation.
I don’t want to be this kind of mom, the kind of mom that has a scowl more than a smile. I realize that I am the only one who can control this behavior. I realize that I’m the only one who can put this sleep deprivation behind me and be the best mom I can be. Yet I find this exhaustion take over me and control me in a way that I feel like I’m possessed by it. I think I need an exorcism.