While You Weren't Sleeping...But Should've Been

A while back I was trying to come up with some blog post ideas, and I considered writing about the crazy things that sleep deprivation does to a person. However, I find myself unable to come up with much material for such a post because I honestly feel like I’m getting fairly decent sleep this time around. I was expecting the lethargic lifelessness that occurred after Hannah was born, when my eyes were glazed over in an unendingly vacant stare while I feared that I might never feel any semblance of normal again.

It’s not like that this time, hooray!

Even so, I’m still thoroughly lacking in the energy department, so my blog posts are probably going to continue to suffer in quality and quantity for a while. My brain is not functioning on all cylinders (not that it ever did), but that’s okay. I need rest, and I need precious time with my babies. But I also need some time to myself to stay sane, so I’m going to continue to work on that balance.

What I do know is that it’s funny how staying up too late or not getting enough sleep is similar to drinking one too many margaritas. I remember a time long ago – I was in fourth grade – when I couldn’t fall asleep one night. Instead of counting sheep or some other sort of harmless activity, I came up with a “genius” plan. By the light of my alarm clock, I penned two secret admirer letters - not to actually give to anyone I secretly admired, but to play a practical joke. I planned on leaving them on the desks of two male friends I had in class. Both letters said something like, “Meet me by the big oak tree at recess.” (I don’t really remember where the meeting place was, but that sounds good enough.) I thought it was going to be hilarious for them to show up at the tree and see each other standing there.

So that night I feverishly scribbled away on the notepad, giggling like a maniac in anticipation of watching this all go down. I patted myself on the back for being so HI-LAR-I-OUS. And the next morning at school I went through with my plan.

As genius of a plan as it was, it was not without its flaws. I failed to take into account the fear that fourth grade boys have of romance, so I watched in horror as both of my targets, upon reading their letters, proceeded to take them up to the teacher and show her. No, what are you doing? I screamed in my head. This is not part of the plan!

Convinced I was going to get into trouble, I tried to pretend I wasn’t paying attention as the three of them looked around the room confusedly. Nothing ever came of it, but to this day I believe the teacher knew it was me. I’m sure my face must have turned beat red out of the terrifying realization that she probably thought I had crushes on both of the boys.

Life lesson: Do not try to be hilarious when lack of sleep (or consumption of alcohol) is involved.

Thank goodness Abram has a tendency to go to sleep by 11 p.m. Otherwise I just might persuade myself to engage in more shady (albeit hilarious) activities.

I’m in for it if my kids end up being anywhere near as goofy as I am. So far signs point to yes.