Mommies Nap Time
I get a little grouchy when I haven't had my nap and I haven't had my nap in, oh, a week? So, needless to say I am a little tightly wound right now and my eyes feel like sand paper. I'm losing it.
Today I'm to blame because I foolishly started the TV show Scandal last night and stayed up til...actually, I didn't look at the clock, but as my stomach started to growl wondering where breakfast was I'm going to assume it was passed 2 am.
I. WANT. MY. NAP.
I think it's safe to say that my children would benefit from me being able to sleep longer than 2 hours. I'm so tired that I'm over tired to the point where when I try to lay down and shut my eyes, all I see are words, lists and I hear a never ending monologue of things that I should have done, didn't do and will now have to remember to do later. Later. Later. It feels like everything is on that particular list.
Don't get me wrong, I've been accomplishing. I've been pretty successful in the cleaning and organizing and going through things. Now I'm onto packing and not wanting to lock my children in a dungeon for the whole day just so I can have a little peace and quiet.
It's because I'm tired that I'm crazy. OK, abnormally crazy.
My neck hurts. My legs hurt. My back hurts. My eyes hurt. But most of all my head hurts.
Isn't it funny how something as boring as sleep could be so extremely essential to your existence as a decent human being who doesn't want to smother people with a pillow for interrupting her moment of silence? I would settle for a 2 hour nap. I might settle for 10 minutes where I'm not having to stomp down the hallway so the little ears can perk up and be afraid be very afraid that mommy has heard their voices when it's nap time and there should be no voices.
I used to be scared to death of my mother. She would wake us up in the morning and I would not get up. I would go back to sleep until I heard her footsteps coming down the hallway, saw her shadow coming towards my open bedroom door and the fear of God struck me like a bucket of cold water as I stood up straight as a board, made my bed and acted as if I had actually been awake for 10 minutes.
This is the reaction I'm hoping to instill in my children. lol Actually, I'd just prefer it if soon they would go back into the rhythm of taking a nap when they're put in bed and it wouldn't have to be a never ending fight with me coming back there to threaten them for the 5th time. I need the rhythm. I need the pattern of regular sleep. I need, like an infant, a nice schedule where everyone sleeps when they're supposed to. Where when I don't close my eyes and feel sleep tugging me deeply into that wonderfully warm embrace I don't hear the sound of something mischievous and almost evil happening in another room...probably the room that I just cleaned.
My daughter has a knack, she knows exactly how to make my greatest fears reality. Or maybe I just know her so well I can say with certainty exactly where she is, what she's getting into and how angry I'm going to be when I walk in there and she's: A. Dug her fingers into my chap-stick for the 20th time and destroyed it by eating it. B. Poured all the shampoo, conditioner, lotion, etc into a container or down the drain or painted her body with it. C. Defecated on some poor abused piece of furniture, my newly steam cleaned carpet, or in a doll sized potty.
All of the above have happened and I wish I could say only once.
Sigh.
I digress. I need a nap. REALLY BADLY.
Today I'm to blame because I foolishly started the TV show Scandal last night and stayed up til...actually, I didn't look at the clock, but as my stomach started to growl wondering where breakfast was I'm going to assume it was passed 2 am.
I. WANT. MY. NAP.
I think it's safe to say that my children would benefit from me being able to sleep longer than 2 hours. I'm so tired that I'm over tired to the point where when I try to lay down and shut my eyes, all I see are words, lists and I hear a never ending monologue of things that I should have done, didn't do and will now have to remember to do later. Later. Later. It feels like everything is on that particular list.
Don't get me wrong, I've been accomplishing. I've been pretty successful in the cleaning and organizing and going through things. Now I'm onto packing and not wanting to lock my children in a dungeon for the whole day just so I can have a little peace and quiet.
It's because I'm tired that I'm crazy. OK, abnormally crazy.
My neck hurts. My legs hurt. My back hurts. My eyes hurt. But most of all my head hurts.
Isn't it funny how something as boring as sleep could be so extremely essential to your existence as a decent human being who doesn't want to smother people with a pillow for interrupting her moment of silence? I would settle for a 2 hour nap. I might settle for 10 minutes where I'm not having to stomp down the hallway so the little ears can perk up and be afraid be very afraid that mommy has heard their voices when it's nap time and there should be no voices.
I used to be scared to death of my mother. She would wake us up in the morning and I would not get up. I would go back to sleep until I heard her footsteps coming down the hallway, saw her shadow coming towards my open bedroom door and the fear of God struck me like a bucket of cold water as I stood up straight as a board, made my bed and acted as if I had actually been awake for 10 minutes.
This is the reaction I'm hoping to instill in my children. lol Actually, I'd just prefer it if soon they would go back into the rhythm of taking a nap when they're put in bed and it wouldn't have to be a never ending fight with me coming back there to threaten them for the 5th time. I need the rhythm. I need the pattern of regular sleep. I need, like an infant, a nice schedule where everyone sleeps when they're supposed to. Where when I don't close my eyes and feel sleep tugging me deeply into that wonderfully warm embrace I don't hear the sound of something mischievous and almost evil happening in another room...probably the room that I just cleaned.
My daughter has a knack, she knows exactly how to make my greatest fears reality. Or maybe I just know her so well I can say with certainty exactly where she is, what she's getting into and how angry I'm going to be when I walk in there and she's: A. Dug her fingers into my chap-stick for the 20th time and destroyed it by eating it. B. Poured all the shampoo, conditioner, lotion, etc into a container or down the drain or painted her body with it. C. Defecated on some poor abused piece of furniture, my newly steam cleaned carpet, or in a doll sized potty.
All of the above have happened and I wish I could say only once.
Sigh.
I digress. I need a nap. REALLY BADLY.
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