All I Want For Christmas Is…Sleep.

That’s it.  I am sending Ellie back.

From where she came from.

I can’t. Take. Another. Night. Of interrupted sleep.

And I know I am not alone in my sleeplessness – and how crazy it can drive a person.  As if interviewing the author of the best-selling bedtime story for adults, “Go The F*k To Sleep,” was not enough validation of the emotional trauma a sleepless child can cause, a dinner at a close friends apartment last night confirmed it for me.

This couple has a six-month-old son that has the same lack of commitment to sleep as my darling daughter.  And dining with them was like holding up a big ole mirror in front of my tired looking face.

As soon as their son went down to bed, it was an actual race for all of us to get our heads on the pillow, because there is no telling when the children will rise from their slumber and want to ruin any chance of mental stability that a parent might have.

She finished sending emails, he finished cleaning off the dishes, Ellie and I dressed quickly and caught a cab.  Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t rushing us out of their apartment – I had my own determination to get home as soon as possible so that I could sleep as much as possible.  Because I am always tired.  I could drink a pot of coffee and still fall asleep instantly.

I get home, put Ellie down, finish up some work, and I drift off to dreamland at about 11pm.

Soon after a good friend that is staying with me, came home, got ready for bed, and my child with supersonic heard her – and she was up.

Which meant we were up.

UNTIL 2:30am.  I let her cry for a loooooong time.  I rocked her.  I gave her a bottle.  I wondered how much I would have to pay someone to spend a night at my apartment so that I could go somewhere else – AND SLEEP.  She cried more. She flailed.  She made me feel like running a half-marathon in August was nothing compared to the physical stamina it takes to endure consecutive nights without sleep.

Then she drifted off to dreamland.  After 3 and a half hours of torture.

When I woke up this morning and took a look at my beautiful Christmas Tree, one thought crossed my mind, “All I want for Christmas…is sleep.”


Today I am wearing a maternity tank top and maternity leggings, under my dress…even though I back to my pre-baby size, because I don’t want to spend money on new clothes. Yet I would take out a second mortgage on my apartment if it meant getting one week of great sleep.