No Sleep for the Weary

I miss sleep. I never knew what tired really was until I became a mother. At my peak amount of sleeping, my eyes were not closed for longer than four hours at a time. Now, I’m lucky if I get a two hour stretch. Which, in all honesty, is better than the amount of sleep I was getting three years ago at this time. I was lucky to see the inside of my eye lids for forty-five seconds, let along forty-five minutes.

After being up with Jaxen in the middle of the night, Scott used to bounce out of bed. With hope beyond hope in his eyes, he would say crap like, “he slept through the night right?”. No nope no, not even close; I’m just that good at what I do. Now don’t get me wrong, for the first six weeks of our newborn’s life, every time I was awake, so was Scott. He handed me clean diapers, grabbed fresh pajamas, and moved the dogs to give me more space while I nursed. My husband was in it to win it, even when he thought I asked for a typewriter (I asked for a clean diaper). It soon became clear though, that what baby wanted was milky and he wanted it from tap. No amount of lactation tea was going to allow Scott to step into my place as food source and let me sleep.

When Hunter was born, I didn’t even bother making Scott stay at the hospital with us that first night. The nurses were amazing and I only had one job: feed the baby. After an intense delivery, he was more than happy to head home and sleep in his own bed and I followed doctor’s orders and got two hours of sleep. I also watched a movie and fell asleep sitting up. Tina Fey even showed up in my dream dressed in a burkha.

For the time that I nursed Hunter, I was up every two hours. Now that he’s a little older, I’m still up every two hours. I suppose I could shove his dad out of bed to make a bottle and then feed him but the man doesn’t even hear the baby crying and he’s in the same room as us. It’s totally one of those stereotypical instances when it’s just easier to do it myself.

Most Saturdays, I do get a bit of a break. Either Scott will keep Jaxen in the living room when he wakes up at the butt crack of dawn or Jaxen will bring his iPad into our room and lay next to me watching toddler reality TV (kids watching kids watch Youtube). I lollygag until almost nine or whenever Hunter decides he’s demands my attention.

My husband may never know how much it means to me that I get to sleep in. I still hear everything going on but I don’t even think about it. Dad is doing his parenting thing, just like I do mine. He sleep more every single night than I will in the next ten years, but I receive compensation in the form of Dr. Pepper and baby schnuggles. Hmmm, it appears there’s even a wage gap in parenting.



Baby in striped pajamas sleep
He’s totally worth the loss of sleep.

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