I hate being tired.
I literally, hand on my heart, can’t stand it. I become the grumpiest person you will ever meet. I cry if someone looks at me funny. I yell and tantrum like my two year old if I can’t have my own way. I envy my one year old his naps. If either of them has the unfortunate happenstance to fall asleep on my lap, they’re more than likely to wake up with my face close to theirs, my eyes green, the words ‘I wish I was you right now’ itching to get out, right on the tip of my exhausted, self-loathing tongue.
I feel sorry for the people around me when I’m tired. It’s like PMT (without the stomach cramps; with the yearn for chocolate.)
Noah stopped taking naps a few months back. I lately find myself asking him on the odd occasion whether he fancies taking one (when Babu’s napping) in order for me to close my eyes for five minutes. But that never happens. He often answers, ‘Me sleep on sofa?’ and I (to avoid arguments) say yes, and he watches a DVD, and I find something to tidy. Or end up watching it with him.
I used to be able to get out of bed with a spring in my step. Along the same vein, I used to be able to sleep in until mid-afternoon. Granted, I usually didn’t go to bed until well after 2.00am. But my boys go to bed at 6.30pm. This means they (usually) get up between 5.00am and 6.30am. That is very early. (Saying that, getting up early does have some merits – it’s not even midday yet and pretty much all my house work is done. Yey.)
I can’t adjust. You’d think after almost three years I would have learnt. But no. Not one bit. It’s just that, even though I love it so, sleep seems like such a pointless exercise sometimes. Instead, I could be writing, cleaning, travelling the globe.
Noah’s nearly three and I still think it’s OK to go to bed at midnight. I then get woken up after just five hours sleep and howl like the King Kong, banging my fists on my chest and throwing things. I beat myself up and swear ‘NEVER AGAIN!’ Only I do do it again. That very night. And I’ll do it tonight. Even now I’m thinking ‘bed at 9pm? Seems like such a waste of time. Only if I did go to bed early, I wouldn’t be physically holding my eyes open at 3pm every day, would I?
When will I learn.