You know that old myth about how the Inuit have more than 50 words for snow? (My apologies, BTW, for the less than politically correct link, but Uncle Cecil has long held a soft spot in my heart.) Well, I think it’s about time we came up with some new words to express the idea of tired. I got 49 entries from Roget’s online thesaurus, and none of them come close to what I’m feeling these days.
When I talk to my childless friends and they say they are tired, it is increasingly difficult for me to restrain my rolling eyeballs. You do not, my friend, know the meaning of the word tired. I had no idea there was an entire universe of experience beyond what I conventionally (read: pre-parenthood) understood tired to mean. I am coming off of a state of sleep deprivation incurred while my darling son woke on the average every three hours for ELEVEN SOLID MONTHS — and that’s on the average, mind you, some nights it was more like hourly — and I can tell you that unless you’ve been there, you don’t know from tired. And if you have been there, hats off to you my comrade! Come join me in this little corner of cyberspace and we’ll take a nap together.
Now I’m the first to admit, I’m a bit of a suck when it comes to sleep. I’d be happy with nine hours, can make do with eight hours, am cranky and unmanageable with seven, and anything less than that just gets messy. I thought I had the parental sleep deprivation thing conquered with my first son… sure, we had to do the midnight feedings for the first couple of months, and there were days when we got up before the sun. In general, though, he slept a good twelve hours a night from about four months old, bless his little heart. And then came baby #2, who would wake up in the middle of the night because he was lonely, and would fall right back to sleep — as long as I was holding his hand. How do you say no to someone who only wants to hold your hand? That’s a good part of the reason why I kept him in a cradle at my bedside until he was eight months old and so big I had to cram him into it with a shoe-horn… at least I could stay in bed and keep him company at the same time. I also learned to nurse him in bed in pretty short order, as a baby who starts out at 10 lbs needs a lot of calories to make it through the dark hours, or so he insisted.
I’m happy to report that after suffering through a month of intermittent ‘cry it out’ with him, I think we have finally established a decent night-time routine. Well, decent inasmuch as I can cope at work with six hours of sleep if I have to. Now, if we can just eliminate the 5 am feeding, followed closely by the 5:45 am stumble through my morning ablutions, we might have a serviceable routine. Ah, how I remember fondly the days I used to need an alarm clock to wake me up…
As you know well enough, I have walked(notice the past tense, yeah babe I am laughing with you) a mile in your shoes.
The closest I ever came to an adequate description of the exhaustion you feel as a parent, came during my study of Military History and Literature. The term “2000 yard stare” was coined from the looks of GI’s in WWII( I am not suggesting that the weariness of parenthood come even remotely close to the realities of war). In fact I believe, it may have originated with this painting
http://www.milhist.net/images/2000YardStare.jpg>
Could you use this quote to describe yourself?
“…who has had all, or more than, he can take. The staring eyes, the slack lips, the sleepwalker’s stance. I’ve seen men with that look on their faces. I’ve had it on my own face. It feels stiff, and the muscles don’t want to work right when you try to smile, or show expression, or talk. Mercifully, you’re out of it for a while; unmercifully, down in the center of that numbness
“staring eyes, the slack lips, the sleepwalker’s stance”… yep, that about covers it.
Glad to see that history degree being put to good use! 😉
xo Danigirl
You are living my life. My 10 mo. old doesn’t sleep. He’s my 4th and everyone PROMISED me he would be so good and sleep so well. i.e. “Oh, the 4th will sleep all.the.time.” uh huh. He is good, but he won’t sleep. And I am the worst mother in the the universe if I get less than 7 hours of sleep. So, as you can surmise, I am a cranky mom lately.
When he sleeps I will let you know and maybe your babe is sleeping too and we can celebrate.
Yes, some day they will sleep and we will celebrate. Actually, they will sleep and we will lie awake listening for them to wake up! Ugh, four kids, how do you sleep even seven hours a week??
🙂 Danigirl