This morning I turned the coffee to “on” without pouring water in first and watched as nothing happened for a long, agonizing few seconds before realizing the carafe was sitting by the sink full of water.
I am SO TIRED.
This morning I posted on Facebook about the delirious, midnight essay composed in my head about the patriarchal conspiracy that is the pro-breastfeeding movement that’s meant to keep woman so sleep deprived we’re slightly insane and never fully function as normal humans after having kids.
I told my husband and he said, “How does sleep deprivation benefit men?” Oh, honey. Just nod and smile.
Of course I got sympathy from other moms. We’re all in this together but exhaustion is so isolating. How is it possible to explain to your husband that it’s not always possible to sleep when the baby does? That dinner doesn’t magically appear? That laundry doesn’t fold itself? That the world’s noisiest baby keeps you up all night even when he needs nothing?
I have tried everything I can think of: swaddling tightly in that Velcro straight jacket, using the humidifier, leaving a light on, putting a hat on him, burping him and burping him. Nothing helps. He grunts and groans most of the night.
I’m serving the eviction notice this weekend.