In a past not so far away, I wrote post after post about sleep and the need for more of it. My days mixed together in a haze of exhaustion only understandable by a parent. That's not to say others don't feel exhausted after working too much over time, or hanging out with friends too late, or pulling all night cram sessions.
The difference here is that when all those things are over, that person can "catch up." He or she can spend a few extra hours in bed on the weekend or take a nice long nap after finals week is over. That person gets to SLEEP.
A mother, however, doesn't get to play catch up. She gets to play Mom. It's a 24/7 job. I'm exhausted. We're in the midst of changes in Dylan's schedule and I find my days and nights mixing together in one long drawn out series of exhaustible moments with little hope for relief. Unlike the days of old, I know "this too shall pass," which seems to be a mantra for parents of young children. I know that eventually, we'll get through this and I will once again get a decent night of sleep.
But until then, I live in a strange land where reality and dreams intermingle with each other as I struggle to know whether I'm dreaming or standing.