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On any given night around 3 a.m. there are likely two people crying in my home. One of them is my newborn son. The other one is me. While we have tried to stay one step ahead of him and come up with a plan that allows maximum sleep for everyone, Nathan has something else in mind. Before we had kids, my husband would refer to babies as little terrorists.
“No!” I’d say, “they’re amazing!”
Now I know what he meant. In our particular situation, Nate holds sleep hostage. It’s as if he’s aware of how much he tortures us from one night to the next, between his constant desire for milk and his inability to lie flat on his back without snorting, choking or spitting up. I’m convinced that he has it out for us.
One night, or even a few nights of sleep deprivation, can certainly be tolerated. But when you haven’t had more than an hour of sleep at a time, over a period of a couple of months, the things your mind does are spectacular. Have you ever blanked on someone’s name, or forgotten what day it is? Imagine that being your status quo for every single moment in your life. You can’t remember the name of your sweet dog that you’ve had for over a decade (and who has been secretly plotting his revenge since the children were born). There’s no guarantee that your wallet will make it home with you after a trip to the store, so you begin to rely on the kindness of strangers to turn it in to lost and found. And never mind forgetting what day it is. I routinely blank on the month we’re in. All this because my baby hates me in the middle of the night. I can only imagine what his teenage years will be like.
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