I like sleep, sleep is my friend. However basic math has gotten in the way toddler + teething does not = sleep. I have long known that I needed sleep, and the less I get, the worse it is for beautiful wife. Case in point, when I am really tired, I have waking dreams; I once pushed her out of bed because I needed to save her from a set of skies that were about to fall on top of her, valiant yes, good idea, not so much. I mean who keeps skies over their bed.
I recently realized that even more so, it can effect my work, aside from the normal, taking 8 different attempts to spell “Hi”, I couldn’t get a simple sentence out either, and this is just with a little dude getting up at 5:15 because his two year molars are coming in. What the heck am I going to do when number 2 comes along? I’m going to need a freaking translator.
You know when I was in college I rocked sleep, I could sleep for hours, hours I tell you. I wish I had known that in a few years I would be begging for an extra 15 minutes. I might have cherished it a little more. There really isn’t such a thing as a good sleep, in fact, “Good sleep” is the ultimate parenting oxymoron. There is okay sleep, there is crappy sleep, there is no sleep, or even a complete lack of sleep, but no such thing as a good sleep anymore. Oh well, it’s worth it, and that’s why God invented caffeine:
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