Remember Angelina Jolie all twitchy and gnarkity in Girl Interrupted? Her brilliant portrayal of psychological disturbance beautifully demonstrates my mental discomposure with this whole Noah-waking-in-the-night bull!@#$! I write this post only to vent and not to beg for solutions. I want only a safe place to blow out my seething madness, to somehow make light of its ugliness, mostly to amuse myself by writing something entertaining about it. Anything, anything other than floating around all alone in the stink of my thinking right now.
Because my blog's main therapeutic strategy is to make lemonade out of lemons, I will say one really good thing has come out of my precarious sleep situation: I now value sleep more than food. This is monumental for a foodie of my magnitude. I actually crave good sleep far more than food, and good sleep gives me far more comfort than any sugary, fat-laden food right now. For this I am glad because food's magical qualities wore off a long time ago.
Okay, enough of the smiles n' sunshine, back to the vile anger. I'm so ¡@#$%^&*! pissed right now, I could just, ... I could just, ... oh, I don't know... spit? I would scream, but I've wrecked my throat far too many times in the past doing that. Yes I am super grateful for my two handsome, thriving, happy children, but this nighttime sleepus interuptus shit is pissing me the !@#$%^&*! off. Thank god I have this blog to puke all over in anger and frustration.
So let me indulge myself for just one more (long) paragraph of blechy exclamatives. (Yes, I make up lots of words. It's necessary when you take my compulsive energy and cram it into sentences) I'm so ¡@#$%! pissed that half my night is spent in "twilight" sleep as a friend so succinctly put it: somewhere between sleep and being awake. A sort of limbo faux sleep suspension between Noah's very rude nighttime wakings. A cheap knock off of sleep that leads me just to those weird little incongruous thought patterns of pre-dreaming... and then...WHAM, Noah cries and I'm awake having to wonder what to do this time and then how to get myself back to sleep... and what in the heck was that weird little gnome murmuring to me under the umbrella? Hopefully I can catch that hallucination on the flip side when my heavenly-yet-frustrating thin veil of twilight sleep mercifully takes over again.
this just in.....
N E W S F L A S H
Noah's got an ear infection so I can't be mad at him.
Wait a minute. Was I mad at him or just the sleep situation? Is there a difference? Am I evolved enough to make a distinction between him and his behavior, not taking it out on him but rather being a good, all-loving compassionate mama? Well, sometimes. I ain't no angel. Not even close. I have to admit that in the heat of the heat of the every 20-30 minute cries in the night, I ain't thinkin' sprinkles-with-a-cherry-on-top kinda thoughts about my beloved son.
We went to the doc this morning because he was just SO out of sorts and she somehow maneuvered that ear-o-scope thing into his canals - between him batting pathetically at the sides of his head :( - and saw puss and prescribed antibiotics.
Okay, so now I'm really, really sad for him because he is the sweetest little suffering baby boy around, all pulling at his ears and miserably wanting to be asleep but not being able to. My heart is bleeding for him and wishes the amoxicillin could eradicate it, like, yesterday. Poor poor little baby Noah.
Oh the trials and tribulations of being a mommy. The intense guilt for ever feeling angry, frustrated, impatient or being mean. The acute dread, sadness and empathy for their every travail. The fierce pride of each milestone and extreme love with each smile, kiss and hug.
I love Noah so much. So, so much.
I love my sleep and mental health even a little bit more.
Here's to hoping both can coexist peacefully together.