It Wasn’t a Good Night
It started off well enough. Jack went to sleep relatively quickly, and wasn’t too restless through the evening. When I went to bed, he was still asleep.
I must have gotten an hour or maybe even two in before it all kicked off. Jack was hungry. Jack was uncomfortable. Jack was hungry again. Jack was uncomfortable again. Jack needed a change. Jack was uncomfortable again. Jack was hungry again. Jack was still hungry. Jack needed to poop. Jack was uncomfortable.
I stopped even looking at the clock. There was no gauging whether it was time for him to eat again, or how long it had been since anything. It was all just trying to get him to settle down, be quiet, relax, go to sleep.
Around 4 am, I know I took him into the other bedroom and sat on the sofa for a while. Around 5 am, I went back into the bedroom. Around 5:15 am, I gave up and came downstairs. Jack happily rolled around, yelled a bit to play with his newly discovered loud voice, and finally managed to poop. I had a coffee.
We both dozed off a bit, but faced the day with less than 4 hours total sleep. We did a family trip to the Haynes Motor Museum and we all managed to get through the day without screaming.
The problem, of course, is now. It’s almost 8 pm and I’m not so tired I can really go to bed, but I’m too tired to actually do anything. All I can do is stare blankly at the computer or television. I don’t even have the mental energy to think about what I would do if I did have the mental energy to do something. So I waste the night playing pointless games on Facebook until I can’t even bear to look at all the colorful little blobs.
Trying to reclaim my time — and my identity — is my struggle right now. I don’t yet know how to be a parent and be an actual person who does non-parent things. I suppose this will come with time. I hope it will, anyway.