Brain not work goodish

Today, my daughter is 40 days old. And this week has been the real start of the sleep deprivation many parents warned us about.

Truth is — and here I’m fully aware of the potential for jinxing things — Sage is a really sweet baby who very seldom fusses. However, she goes from sleeping soundly to screaming her head off very, very quickly when she’s hungry, and getting her to calm down enough to start feeding can be tricky.

She has had some moments in the middle of the night that have been frustrating for us (for all of us, I’m sure), and I know I have to be grateful for the fact that most of these moments haven’t lasted long. I am fully aware that getting six hours of sleep with only a few three-minute interruptions is pretty good compared to what some of my friends have gone through with their babies. And Ann… well, I don’t actually know how much sleep she gets. I know she’s stuck with the 2 am feeding, but she can sleep in later than I do. And I assume she’s napping when she can. I haven’t asked, because if she isn’t napping, I’m going to feel a bit guilty. (Ann, don’t tell me just yet. Of course, I’m also assuming Ann is reading this blog. I make lots of assumptions, some of them with a basis in reality.)

Anyway, work has been a bit harder since I have less focus; conversations we’ve had in the evenings often result in her reminding me of what we were just talking about; and even blogging has been hit-or-miss, depending on just how fuzzyheaded I am (hence last night’s post being simply a joke).

I’ve got a list of chores to do on Saturday — not until then, because I’m hoping to have caught up a little bit on sleep. And four times tonight — four — I have remembered something that I wanted to put on that list, picked up the pen to write it down, and saw that I had already written it down.

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m complaining; I’m trying to observe without judgement, because good gracious I love this little girl. But right now, if you asked me for a well-reasoned opinion on much of anything… well, let’s just say I’d be glad that I do improv, because I think I might be able to manage to fake it (if I were interested enough in the topic).

Hmm. This post seems to be rambling. Probably because I’m unfocused.

But right now, I’m looking over at her, and I think I could stay up all night just to watch her sleep.

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