Last night was rough.
Craig asked me this morning, “Did we sleep? I mean, did we even sleep?”
I’m willing to say we got two hours of consecutive sleep. Maybe two and a half.
Lila was sick. And loud. And sad. And constantly repeating, “I ok. Lila ok. Lila ok.” (Sweet baby already has a mantra.)
Vivienne was feeling sympathy pains or maybe just couldn’t stand not being in on the middle-of-the-night fun and was awake, too. Several times.
I don’t complain about much of anything when it comes to my babies. I adore them. I do. I HEART being a Mom more than I could have ever expected.
I’m just tired. Oh, oh so tired.
Humans are not expected to function with the amount of sleep that I’ve been getting for the past five months.
I require 8-10 hours of sleep per night. I’ve been getting maybe 5.
I know we’ve all been there. But at this moment, I just have to write: I’m so tired.
Tomorrow’s a new day.
A new day that starts at 5:43 a.m. because of my stupid 6 a.m. Friday pilates class.