It is almost 4 am and I can't sleep. In times of stress I get terrible boughts of insomnia. I've tried a lot of things while I was wishing I could be sleeping--like advancing the plot of the novel I'll never publish, hot baths, yoga, reading one of the 6 books I am in the middle of, doing the dishes, and now blogging. Usually the only real cure is getting back into my sleep rhythm. (Yes little Ens, I'm blaming you!) I'm sure I'll have no trouble falling asleep 45 minutes before the kids are up...sigh...
This past week has been crazy hectic and I guess the frenetic pace isn't good for me. Scarlett and I spent about 6 hours (while we both should have been sleeping) in the ER on Tuesday night. My intuition kept telling me something was wrong while my pediatrician was telling me everything was fine. Sure enough, she developed pnumonia and the poor child has been so, so sick. The week that I had planned to use for Christmas preparations was instead focused on nursing her back to health. It is a huge relief that I no longer have to pin her down and syringe juice into her mouth every hour. I think there were about 3 days where I had one or both kids crying for about 90% of my day. I admit I did teeter on the edge of a breakdown (I even pondered shaving my head Brittney-style or taking psychotropics and accosting strangers Anne Heche-style) but I pulled through and so did Scarlett.
I knew she was better when she ate a whole plate of scrambled eggs in 3 seconds and when she announced several times, "Scarlett happy, momma!" So worth it.
I hear a baby crying...that's my cue