Sleep deprivation is going to kill me. Or, if it doesn't kill me, it's going to deprive me of the ability to make sense of ordinary things. Soon I won't be able to form a sentence that sense makes. And would no one then able be to blog my read. And that suck would.
I had an inkling I was over tired when I caught myself singing "I'm so tired, but that's okay 'cause so are you." to myself in the mirror this morning.
And then I found my lost keys in the dish washer. And though it was nice to have sparkly clean keys, I decided this was not the behaviour of an alert, awake person.
And then I started calling the dog by the kid's names, the kids by my husband's name, my husband by the dog's name. It was all a bit confusing.
And when a charity called to arrange the details of a clothing pick up, I had to check my front door to make sure I was giving her the right house number.
And while on the phone, I watched as my toddler squeezed the juice from half a grapefruit onto the sofa and lick it off exclaiming "delicious!" and did nothing about it. Because I hadn't yet had my coffee.
I admit, it's partially my own fault. I gave up on sleep training because I wanted to hang on to the sweet baby cuddles. Because soon the sweet baby will be a stubborn toddler. And there may be no more babies or baby cuddles. And so, my brilliant plan of ditching the sleep training completely botched any hope of sleeping through the night.
Even coffee - my morning vice, my luva in a cuppa - isn't as effective any more. After two or three cups my head is still foggy and I still cannot think lucidly.
But at least I won't need a mask for Halloween this year. The bags and wrinkles will suffice.