Baby, I’m tired.

It’s official: I’m tired.

I’m too tired to drive.

I’m too tired to get my eyes tested.

I’m too tired to think of longer sentences.

This week has seen my 21mo (who normally only wakes 2-3 times a night) with a nightly fever, two new molars poking through, and a chest infection, which also means I get f&ck-all sleep. When you’re sleep deprived (or is it now sleep depraved?) it’s hard to find perspective. The first sleepless night, I was angry every time he woke. Poor thing. The second night, I ran weeping into the backyard and lay on the concrete until I heard MLM manage to calm him down enough so the screams stopped.

Now, I’m so sleep deprived, after almost 4 years of continual sleep deprivation, that I’m having trouble distinguishing between realistic dreams, and the fog that I operate in when I’m (supposedly) awake.

While I still believe that my beautiful boy will sleep through one night, at some point, it’s hard to reassure my body that. I know there are those worse off, but my head hurts, my eyes can’t handle shifts in focus and I cry every time I can’t get to sleep because things are whirring in my head.

MLM is planning on taking the afternoon off tomorrow so I can have a sleep while he looks after the kids. He’s banning me from doing any work from home, which is awesome. I love him so much, but I’m tearing up with the idea of having a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Goodnight.