Saturday, January 19, 2013

The One with the Cheeseburger Theory

I love and adore my children. 

But I'm not so good at the whole not sleeping thing. 

I mean, if you count the whole going 9 months without once getting 8 hours of sleep thing as being "good at not sleeping," then I guess you've got me.  Months one and two post-Logan were doable.  But I'm rapidly running out of sanity on my continuing diet of 2 hours or less at a time.

Case and point?

On Friday, I sent the following e-mail about a student's reading test results:

He defintly needs phonics.  Struggles wth advanced voules and sometimes makes up letters that aren't there.  Comprehension does the same.
I recieved the following e-mail in return:
Everything okay with you?
Um... would you be referring to the fact that my specialty is Language Arts, I was ironically giving a reading test and my own e-mail reads like a Who's Who of bad grammar and spelling?
Have I mentioned that my family has been sick?  Casey brought it home to all of us on Monday.  Tuesday night, Leah was up all night coughing and Weds the doc confirmed it as croup.  Logan didn't get it until this weekend.  Thanks to a combination of $75 worth of vitamins and sheer dumb luck, I haven't had it yet. 
But I'm running on empty.  My well wasn't exactly deep to begin with, and caring for three sick-ies hasn't been the easiest of tasks.
So, to frame the crazy e-mail story, let's just put it in perspective.  Here's what my Thursday night looked like (after having already pulled solo-middle-of-the-night duty the previous two nights):
7:00 - fed a baby and put him to bed.
9:30 - Baby wakes up, Mommy feeds him.
10:00 - Mommy goes to bed.
12:00 - Baby wakes up.  Mommy wakes, cries (yep, that happened) and can't get up, so Daddy goes in to put him back to bed.
2:00 - Daddy goes in again.
2:30 - Daddy putting him to bed didn't take, Mommy goes in and feeds him.
3:00 - Big Sister wakes up, Mommy goes in.
3:30 - Baby wakes up, Mommy puts him back to bed.
4:30 - Big Sis up again, Mommy goes in.
5:00 - Alarm goes off.  Mommy seriously contemplates putting the pillow over her head and screaming.
Oh, this tired is on a whole new level. 
Logan was getting better at the concept of sleeping longer than two hours.  Casey began trying to help sleep train him after Christmas, and since then, there have been three nights when he slept the better part of the night.  Once, I got six hours.  In a row, I might add.  Another time I got 8 whole hours (and the light of heaven shown down and the angels sang) in 3 and 5 hour spurts.  It was glorious. 
Without Casey, though, the whole thing doesn't really work. I can't sleep train him, because when I go in it just reminds him that he'd really like to use me as a human pacifier. 

It's the Cheeseburger Theory. 
If you woke up in the middle of the night, hungry for a cheeseburger, and someone came in and held one in front of your face without letting you eat it, you'd be pretty ticked off too.  That's when the screaming really kicks into high gear (the baby, just in case that was unclear).
So, sometime in the foreseeable future, we'll get back to it.  In the mean time, I'm just trying to get through. 
Somehow, I don't think my CSAP scores will be topping the district this year...

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