Right, o you’d think that an under-slept new parent would fall asleep *immediately* every chance she gets, no? At least that’s what I thought. Silly me! Eria’s been sleeping better for the past couple of nights, and last night I went to bed really early, to prepare myself for the daunting but impending back-to-work event that’s coming up in, oh, a few hours. What’s even more interesting is that Adi-the-man even came to bed at the same time as me. Yeah, you read it here and it’s a brand new first (I don’t have more redundancies up my sleeve, otherwise I’d use them, that’s just how emphatic I am).
So, there I was, wedged between my tiny belly-sleeper, and… uhmmm, well, Adi, waiting…waiting… waiting… yawn… waiting. After about half and hour I decided it’s time to pick up the iphone (let me tell you, this puppy comes in really handy when you have an infant you have to put to bed, or when you plain can’t sleep) and read some more blogs. So I did, for about forty minutes or so, but who’s counting. Me, that’s who. Let me see you lie awake when you’re exhausted, just looking at the ceiling, lulled by the lick-lick-lick sound of the cat soothing itself to sleep, by the scratch-scratch-scratch of the dreaming baby who’s probably visualizing mounds and mounds of silicone thingies to chew on, and… uhmmm, well, Adi.
Finally, I started taking more proactive steps to put myself to sleep. Honestly, I can’t do the deep breathing in bed to save my life. I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate right then and there. So I skipped that step. I started analyzing what in the world could be keeping me up. Could it be the impeding thing I mentioned earlier? Why would anyone be anxious about going back to work, especially when all that work is supposed to be in one’s head, a head that’s been occupied exclusively with, you know, intellectual questions, the stuff of academic papers, like should I start buying #3 diapers already or should I give it another week at #2? or should I try and squeeze her into this cute onesie which makes the diaper leave marks on her bum, when she has so many larger ones in the drawer? Aww, but this one’s just too cute. I’ll just put it on one more time and take a zillion photos of her in it. One can never take enough photos of one’s progeny in cute attire.
What was I saying? Yeah, I know I put *you* to sleep, but I still wasn’t sleeping, and maybe now you can see why. I’m *so* not anxious about going back to writing my dissertation. And “going back” is a very generous euphemism in itself. It’s not like I have any chapter written or anything. Just notes. I know what I’ll do: what any OCD person in their right mind would: I’ll make a list first thing tomorrow, after I drop Eria off at the dayhome. Oh, don’t get me started on that aspect of my guilt-free parent life. Right, I’ll make a list, that’s what I’ll do. A plan. That’s exactly what I need. A well thought-out, detailed plan. Say it with me: a p-l-a-n.
So, if you’re hanging by the skin of your teeth (admit it, you are) to find out if I slept at all or not, well, I finally did, only after Eria woke up for a feeding around 1:30 am. One-freakin’-thirty-a-m. And when you’re a sleep-deprived parent, those two hours are worth more than what most people lost from their RRSP funds in this financial meltdown. Enough said.