Flying solo...

There's a reason that the CIA uses sleep deprivation as a form of torture. After a while, your mental fortitude is compromised and you find yourself agreeing to crazy things. Cheese popcorn for breakfast? Ok, Wyatt, I guess that's a perfectly acceptable choice. Cheese is a dairy product. I walk around in a foggy haze of exhaustion, with a perpetual headache from lack of sleep, made worse by the fact that I never remember to drink enough water. Last night, I left one of the stove burners on. Dayven discovered it a couple of hours later. Since we have a gas stove, this meant there was a large open flame blazing in the kitchen. Not good.

The days have been much better than the nights. Oddly enough, I feel OK once I'm up and going for the day. Adrenaline maybe? No other choice? I have almost come to dread bedtime. I think it's curling up in my cozy bed in my PJs, with the delusion that maybe I'll be able to get some sleep. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I drift into a deep slumber, only to be jolted awake with the desperate squeaks of a newborn. It starts as a low grunt and quickly ratchets up to a full blown cry. Dayven often moves into the guest room. I don't blame him. I secretly wish I could too. I told him he should just sleep in there for a couple of weeks. There's no reason for both of us to be woken up, but he says he feels guilty. At least if he suffers with me, he feels like he's doing his part.

Having said that, Hadley is fairly easy to soothe. She likes to nurse and she loves to be held. Her cries can often quickly be quieted simply by picking her up. I love to hold her, but not 24/7. I mean I would like to get some things done. Sometimes I'm holding her and I'll look down and notice she's sound asleep. I carefully transfer her to her bassinet, praying she doesn't wake up. She doesn't stir a bit as a walk quietly away thinking "phew, maybe she'll sleep...." It is blissfully quiet, but then...wait for it..... WAA!...... WAAAAAAH!...... AHA!.... WAAA AAAAAHH HAAAAAA!!!!! Dayven has suggested we get a fake arm from the Halloween prop store to see if we can trick her into thinking we're still holding her. I'm not sure she would buy it, but I'm getting desperate. I even tried letting her "cry it out" a bit (after making sure all her basic needs were met). It is really heart wrenching for me to hear her cry and not pick her up so I took a shower to drown out the crying. When I got out, she was still wailing away in her swing and I couldn't stand it so I had to pick her up and soothe her. I'm probably creating bad habits we'll have to break later by holding her so much, but right now, I'm doing what I can for my sanity.

Wyatt has been desperate to get out of the house (I guess it's not that much fun to watch me nurse a baby all day long) so we've been going to our neighborhood playground every day. He asked to go the library today but I convinced him he really wanted to go the playground. It's about all I have the energy to manage with both kids. I did have to go pick up Finley from the dog groomers one day. Something that would have been a simple task turned into quite an ordeal. I parked far enough away that I had to take the kids in with me (before you report me to child services, I must tell you I have only left Wyatt in the car alone when picking up dry cleaning and I parked in the spot directly in front of the door and could see him the whole time). Hadley began crying on the ride there and by the time we arrived, she was in a full blown fit complete with real tears. I unloaded the double stroller and clipped her in. I looked down and noticed that her whole mouth was bloody. My first thought was she bit her tongue, but that's impossible with no teeth. Then I realized she must have scratched herself while trying to hungrily gnaw her hands off. It had seriously been about 45 minutes since she had last eaten, but the kid really likes to eat. What could I do in the middle of the parking lot? I wiped her mouth, offered a few consoling words and we foraged on. I manuevered the landbarge around the other side of the car to get Wyatt out. He was upset and wanted to walk, not ride in the stroller but I told him he didn't have a choice. We careened through the parking lot with a screaming baby and whining toddler. We picked up Finley and headed to the checkout line, which was 4 people deep. I desperately tried to rock the stroller to soothe Hadley, while trying to wrangle Finley, who was going crazy over the other dogs, while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on Wyatt, who had wandered off to see the fish. Finally it was our turn, I flung some money at the cashier and headed toward the exit. I begged Wyatt to get in the stroller so we could leave. There was a stylish young girl in line behind me who was probably thinking that is exactly why I'm never having kids. I raced through the parking lot (both kids were crying at this point) muttering my frustrations under my breath, loaded them into their car seats and literally stuffed Finley in the back of the car with the stroller. Sorry pal, every man for himself!