Tuesday, September 15, 2015

flats eyes, FULL HEART.

The pure exhaustion. The reluctant acceptance of exhausting.
The hours of rest that you will never get back ever. PERIOD.

I remember growing up and having to get up early for school. What a drag it was but then the weekend came round and it was sleep in city. Lounge around living after Saturday morning chores were done. 

The stakes got higher in college, you'd have to wait a bit longer for good ole R&R but then the semester would end, sickness would overcome your body and you'd enter a bearlike hibernation for a few days then be off running, fun filled days and nights capped by sleeping in as late as humanly possible. 
20's brought work weeks and chill weekends. A lot of downtime, TV time, everything but those 40 hours of work done on your own time. 
I use to come home from work, hop into bed with my cat and a book for a solid 30 minutes to relax then often hit the couch for a few more hours of heavy remote lifting. Maybe hop up to make a salad or just beg my hub to open the wine and order in.
But clocks tick tock and you find yourself asking the question of well, I guess we might as well try right, just 10 days after closing papers on your first home. 

In our case there was no trying, just succeeding. 

And now as a mother of an almost three year old I am at levels of exhausting that I couldn't ever fathom before. My man and I are zombies. Fully addicted to caffeine. Our morning hello's are grumbles of a version of how our sleep was unsatisfactory in length and shitty in depth. 

There are no weekends off, no sleep ins until the clock reaches double digits. 
I've nursed through food poisoning and roto-virus as well as EVERY NIGHT of her life. 
I'm not even being a Martyr just a mother. Same as millions & billions that have chosen to forever forgo sleep and spawn.

The new normal is a one with a face that tingles from lack of sleep and breasts full of caffeine scented milk.