Ramblings From the Soapbox
It’s a bad news, good news day.
Bad: The three year old no longer naps every day.
Good: He does stay in his room for quiet (ish) time, and he is very tired at bedtime, meaning (almost) no shenanigans.
Bad: I have no willpower when there are Oreos in the house.
Good: There are Oreos in the house.
My entire lunch was round. Sushi rolls and Oreos. It’s the best lunch I’ve had in a long time, and I’m considering becoming one of those weirdos who only eats round things. We have a friend who won’t eat anything spherical (cherry tomatoes, pearl onions), but I wonder how he feels about round things?
And now I have Baby Got Back in my head. …round thing in my face…
More good news, bad news.
Good news: A fresh blog post.
Bad news: So far it’s nonsensical ramblings. Like Brad Pitt’s cologne.
We are incredibly sleep deprived around here right now. Exhibits A and B – the nonsense and the Oreo binge. The thing is, I haven’t slept through the night in a couple weeks. I know that anyone with a newborn is thinking, “Cry me a river, lady.” To you, the most sleep deprived of all the sleep deprived, I offer my sympathies. And this bit of hope – babies eventually start sleeping, as will you.
That, there, is precisely the problem at my house. The children usually sleep. They sleep well. Though they’re early risers – if they’re still asleep at 7:30, I start the parental mind games freak out – they typically sleep 10-12 hours every night. Sweet. But in the past month each child has had a cold and cough. Then I caught the cold, with a whopper of a cough. And a sinus infection. I’d get up in the mornings and leave a crime scene-like outline of my body, surrounded by used tissues.
Finally we are all well, and yet I’m still not sleeping through the night. One child keeps having bad dreams and waking me up for comfort (once I’m up, I’m up for a while); the other child is adjusting to his new big kid room, and I think it’s causing some bathroom regression. We’ve had our share of disasters, usually very early in the morning. The result: people are up at all hours around here, soothing scared children or cleaning up wet, dirty children. Washing machines and bathtubs are running before anyone can even mutter, “Coffee, need coffee,” much less make the coffee.
So I’m scattered and forgetful. More than usual. And I feel no need to fight through the fatigue to produce a cohesive blog post.
I did have a point today, though. For starters, I want to make sure nobody thinks I’m complaining. Granted, if you are all huffy, wondering why I have the nerve to complain about being tired, then we probably can’t ever be friends anyway. Yet I want to be clear that I’m not complaining. I do, on a regular basis, bitch and moan about things, but right now I am not.
Yes, I am tired, but I’m also healthy. My family is healthy. I’m not talking little c colds here, although I am happy those are over, but big C cancer or [insert any awful illness here]. In recent months we’ve seen miracles happen, but we’ve also witnessed debilitating disease and death. And right now we know people fighting hard, some of them with the knowledge that their battle is going to be short lived without the most miraculous of miracles.
It’s humbling. It’s sad. It’s scary. It could be any of us. And so I am grateful for the health we have right now. I’m thrilled that I have two little boys who keep me up at night. I’m ecstatic that I’ll probably have to pay extra fees to get these bags under my eyes on my next flight. These bags are born of love.
And if I can (Who am I kidding? It’s my blog – of course I can.), I’d like to leave you with this urging: If you find yourself feeling blessed, share it. Do something kind for someone who is sick, whether it’s your time or your money, whether it’s for one person or an entire organization.
And go ahead, eat an Oreo while you’re at it. The stomach ache is so worth it.
:: Do you get annoyed when people who seemingly have a nice life start complaining about little things (like being tired)?
:: Does it bother you that I got a little soapboxy up there? I swear I pass no judgement – that’s absolutely not my thing – I just feel passionately about this.
:: Can you come over here and physically remove the Oreos from my crumby hands?