Sleep: You elusive, tantalizing treat.  I spend hours thinking of you, many more than we spend together.  And we were so good once.  When I was 6, 7, 8 months pregnant, and I slept for 10+ hours a night.   I was warned, “Enjoy it while you still can.”  All that’s left is a distant memory, a desire, a hope that maybe it really wasn’t all that great, but the deep down knowledge that it was fantastic.

Sleep is one of our favorite topics of conversation.  Everyone asks, “How are you sleeping? How is Miles sleeping?”  And as soon as I think we have it down, we have a night.  He doesn’t cry at night.  No wailing like in the early evening sundowning hours.  This is more of a fidgeting, grunting, flopping that wakes me up every time.  The past three nights it has been every two hours, all night long.  Before that we had a spell where he only got up once, around 2 or 3:30, leaving me fully awake after the 5 consecutive hours that represented the longest stretch I had had since my water broke.  And most days I wake myself up at five, a sacrifice I am willing to make for any chance to run or go to the gym alone.

Miles naps during the day.  Not on any consistent schedule, but probably 4-5 hours total. 4×1 hour naps, or a 3 hour block in the afternoon.  When he is sleeping, I consider what I should do.  One thing I absolutely cannot do unless he is sleeping is sleep.  That is the first go to activity.  Otherwise, I default to things I need both hands and a free torso for: showering, hanging laundry, using the sewing machine, numerous other chores that have to wait after I realize that I would possibly singe his baby hairs off opening the oven with him in the carrier.

While I struggle with dry eyes, irritability, desperation, and frustration at my own 8pm bedtime (its still light out! 8 o’clock in the afternoon!), I console myself: one day I will sleep again.  One day, Miles will go away to college.