Dear Rae, Go to Sleep.

Dear Rae,

Sweet, sweet Rae.

I barely get to blog about you, because, let’s be honest: you really don’t have much going on right now.  Rude, I know.  But you’re actually very easy going compared to your brother who spends his days chucking his toy cars across the floor and dumping anything and everything into the toilet.

I like you, Rae.
You spend your days nursing.
And sleeping.
And nursing.
And pooping.
And sleeping.
And nursing.
And smiling at your brother.
And nursing.
And yelling at your Mickey rattle.
And sleeping.
While I carry you around and sing you silly songs.
That’s about it.
That sounds like an amazing gig.
But apparently that’s not enough for you, oh tiny tyrant.

Maybe that’s why you’ve decided to make a statement.
At 11:12 PM.
Midnight.
1:27 AM.
3:08 AM.
3:44 AM.
4:23 AM.
5:32 AM.
And 6:36 AM.
Nursing, tossing and turning, nursing, spitting out your paci, nursing, and screaming at the one person who is literally giving you life…WITH MY BODY.
I’m pretty sure you should be thanking me with a good nights sleep.

I mean, if you’re not going to sleep at night, at least sleep during the day?
No?
I literally have to sit by you and replace your paci that you immediately spit out the second I sit down?

I intended to use nap time to my advantage and contact Dr Google about why my 4 month old has been screaming at me and how long growth spurts typically last and if there’s any magical lotion I can use to boost my energy (there isn’t).
I don’t know how people with insomnia (or children who sleep like this every night) live.  The past week and a half have been nights of constant waking and nursing sessions that never seem to end, followed by the tossing and turning of either Rae, or me with my high-anxiety-every-noise-in-the-middle-of-the-night-is-totally-a-murderer-in-my-house-I’m-about-to-die mentality.  I roll out of bed in the morning and feel the overwhelming urge to just eat cupcakes and coffee in my pajamas all day, while I cry and watch Cars with Little S while he spills juice all over my house and nurse Rae for the 17 THOUSANDTH time.

Maybe that makes me a bit melodramatic (it does).
But that’s kind of what you expect of me at this point isn’t it?  (It is. I know.)

I love you Rae, but please, for your constant love of my over used milk makers, sleep.

M

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