You know that feeling.... you are so tired... so so tired... all you can muster up is the ability to stumbling around crying. Falling into the furniture. Wiping snot and tears on the couch cushions with out a care. Grasping for anything with in your reach so you can just scream and throw it on the floor! To then just sit there. Staring in despair at the crap all around you wondering how u find the energy and coordination to step over it. Defeated knowing you just can't, you drag your exhausted body over blocks and cheerios...
You don't know what that feels like? Come to my house around 10 am. That is the time that the daily drama parade begins. When I turn into a complete mess and... oh wait not me... Rylan! Clearly the child is exhausted. Close to passing out. So tired he is delirious. Laughing through tears. I scoop him up as he arches his back and kicks his legs. Arms flailing. He looks at me as if he has been possessed. Mouth wide open ready to chomp down on any exposed flesh. So frustrated with no real way to communicate biting the hand that rocks the cradle seems like a reasonable manner to express yourself. I cautiously rock him while waiting for his head to spin and fire to spontaneously shoot from his bloodshot eyes.
Once he is calm-er and no longer trying to claw my face we settle into his favorite rocking chair. I silently pray that he doesn't tear my nipple off and nurse him as he drifts off to sleep. Aaaaah and there he goes. His rigid limbs go limp. His beautiful blue eyes roll as he tries to keep them open. I rub his soft baby hair and wonder if it is normal that I can still feel his soft spot pulse. How old was Seark when I could no longer feel it? I will have to google it when I put him down. Or maybe just text his pediatrician. Lost in soft spot uncertainty I don't even notice my precious babe has already nodded off.
The room is 69 degrees. Dark. There is soft classical music playing. I lay him down so gently on soft sweet smelling muslin Aden & Anais sheets. Cover him in an even softer equally sweet smelling organic bamboo dream blanket that has been freshly sprayed with mommy's bliss lavender mist. The definition of my sleep deprived Heaven.
He looks so content and angelic. I stare for a minute envious of his sleeping situation. Before I even turn to walk away his eye lids fly open. As if he just stuck his finger in a socket he springs up. Shocked. Screaming. Grabbing the bars of the crib and violently shaking them like an angry inmate. I turn and dash towards to the nearest exit. Never making eye contact... knowing if I do I will lose the nap time negotiation.
Rylan always falls back asleep within minutes. Well almost always. For the life of me I will never understand the protest to rest. If at any point someone offers to rock me while stroking my hair in an effort to fall asleep... I will happily take them up on it. I would even pay them to then wrap me in a bamboo blanket. Kill the lights and shut the door. And just leave me alone. I actually spend a good portion of my day fantasizing about that scenario. Often nodding off at the mere possibility.
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