It’s 6am and I am awake. No one else in the house is. But I am.
I have a theory. My daughter’s long standing agenda to slowly drive me insane with lack of sleep so she could conquer the world (I am the first step in a 16-step plan) has now spread to the younger one. I saw them talking yesterday. Like a dope I thought it was cute. Look at them be friends, I said. Look at them bond, I said. But I should have known. They were plotting. Plotting against me and my love for sleep.
Addison has this trick that she does. She gets up anywhere between 3am and 4am, stays awake (and of course desperately needs mama) for a good hour or three. Just long enough to get me really awake. Then she goes back to sleep leaving me bright-eyed and bushy tailed. If I try to go back to sleep, I am not asleep longer than a half hour before my husband has to get up for work and wakes me up again. Or what’s worse it turns into one of those unproductive naps where you just feel worse after you wake up.
Either way I am so tired that my whole body hurts and I am a zombie until about two in the afternoon. This translates into more fun. And I am convinced, she knows it. She knows that if she is up for a couple hours at 3am, that I will be too exhausted to actually do that lesson about the letter B that I found on Pinterest, and carefully planned so I could feel like a one of those awesome structured mom’s who have crazy smart kids. Instead I am the mom who is like like “hey, lets have a family movie afternoon…so we can…uh…cuddle, bond, and I could doze off while making sure you are not going to take a sharpie to my sleeping face.”
It’s a conspiracy. Now the littlest one is in on it.
I am sinking farther and farther into the couch with exhaustion but I know. I know as soon as I doze off my daughter will wake up and I will be royally screwed.
Time for more coffee. With coffee, I will win.
So how are you?