Worn Down

Sometimes, a girl just needs to cry.

It's amazing what a good a meltdown can do for a person.  A hearty, hysterical cry, muffled by a pillow and accompanied by tears can really add emotional miles to a car that is quickly running out of gas.

Take me, for instance.  I love my gig as a baby momma and full-service diner, but this burger joint ain't gonna run without a fresh shipment of potatoes and red meat.  (Or something.)  Anyways, this momma needs sleep every now again, but it sure is hard to come by when it's being rationed by a milk-aholic with a temper.

My little munchkin with a dairy abuse problem is a perfect candidate for Boob-Monster-Itis.  She has all the symptoms: neck cheese, wrist rolls, white tongue, occasional milk coma, and, most notably, baby insomnia.

It was the baby insomnia that led to the mommy meltdown.  Three months of sleep deprivation coupled with a week of no naps, midnight bedtimes, milk fixes every 1-3 hours, and the glint of tiny eyeballs in the moonlight finally broke the camel's back.  The mother needed to cry, too.

So thank goodness for grandmothers, who rock crying babies to sleep while bigger babies do the same.

I feel so much better now!

...

I try my darndest to talk about things other than Clara's sleep problems, but the fact of the matter is, I am consumed by sleep deprivation, day dreaming about sleep, and trying to put Clara to bed for hours upon hours each day, so I'm not very interesting.  But please don't mistake my longing for sleep as ungratefulness.  I love this little girl so much, especially her sweet (much sweeter than mine) demeanor in the middle of the night.

(Hopefully this blog will get more exciting when I get more sleep!)