They are well trained and taught how to survive on little sleep and with impaired judgement. Most of the time I feel like their world is legions beyond my own. And then I have a night like last night.
I went to bed at 11:30pm because, due to evil daylight savings time, I was not tired. At 4:08am my son woke up and cried and cried. I walked into his room and he yelled, "Up! Up!" I picked him up and asked if he wanted to rock or snuggle.
He took his paci out of his mouth, pointed toward the stairs and demanded "BA-BA! MUK!" Which is how he asks for a bottle of milk. He does not drink bottles during the day. He does not eat in the middle of the night anymore. But last night he was Napoleon--complete with the short stature and minor hissy fits.
At 4:20 I put him back in his bed and went back to my own.
At 5:00am I heard a thud and then the quiet crying of my daughter. Jay went in to check on her and it turned out that she needed to go to the bathroom but couldn't figure out how to get out of her pajamas because she was really still asleep. She was just standing in her room dancing from foot to foot with her eyes closed.
After she took care of business she came back to my room to snuggle with me where she kept trying to steal my pillow until I woke up at 7:30, late for work, and disoriented by the lack of light outside.
So, no, it is not likely that the "Ballad of the Suburban Mom" will be a hit song that inspires the nation. There will probably not be a cool movie titled, simply, "MOM" that details the excitement of my life.
But I can take sleep deprivation. I can take massive amounts of bodily fluids covering my clothes, hair, and nails and be grateful that everyone still seems relatively healthy when its over--and do it all without throwing up.
I can also lactate.
So, bring it on, crazy problems when I'm at my most tired. I've been trained for this.