“I can’t get no sleep, your touch is making me weak…” MAW featuring La India
I can’t believe I was a club kid once. I thought nothing of sleeping until 2am, then changing into baggy jeans, sneaks, and a baby tee, driving across the bridge to the City where I would park as close to the club as possible and spend the next 4 hours dancing to house music. These days, I zombie stroll through my house, from my room to the nursery to my bathroom with an occasional jaunt down the dark hall to the living room, and wonder if and when I’ll be able to catch some Z’s. 4 hours of sleep seems enough these days. The baby’s needs take precedence over mine.
We’re on Day 2 of the Fussiness Stage. Apparently there is such a thing as too much milk and my poor daughter’s digestive system has faced major upheaval in the last three days because of it. Today her tummy is calm but she hasn’t slept for more than 50 minutes at one time since 1:30am. And neither have I. Now she’s deeply asleep in her car seat and has been for nearly two hours and I am on the computer, destined to be limited to the very little and interrupted sleep I got last night. Such is motherhood.
Still, when I see her dimples or she coos at me, I forget the tears of frustration and exhaustion. She’s worth it.
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