I adore just about everything there is to adore about being a mommy. Sure, it's not for everyone, but for me, it is an absolute blessing. Except for one thing. The extensive lack of sleep. For those not in the know, when you first have a baby, Mommy and Daddy don't really sleep. Well, Daddy gets more sleep than Mommy. She gives him the "You MOTHERFUCKER" side-eye while he snores and drools into the pillows as she feeds a cute but hungry baby for the better part of an hour every 2 hours. But at some point, it evens out. Your baby begins to sleep for longer stretches and doesn't take as long to eat. I think a balance comes about somehow with your body adjusting to less sleep meeting in the middle with a baby that will permit you longer spurts of sleep.
I've mentioned before that Raelynn is quite a good baby. I'm not just saying that because she's mine. She is mostly easy to deal with. But she does go through spells of not sleeping properly. It's usually a day or two at a time when it happens. And when it does, I become my sleep deprived alter-ego, Mombie the Zombie.
Mombie the Zombie moans at the first signs of light peeping through the curtains, knowing then that there is no chance whatsoever to go back to sleep. This is of course always the time when, if Raelynn has been fussy all night, she will just fall right asleep. But for me, this is the time I have to get up for work. Vacation was lovely for Mombie the Zombie because she COULD actually go back to sleep or at least squeeze in a small nap later. When the semester is in full swing, I am operating in peak zombie mode.
Mombie the Zombie relies heavily on coffee and lots of it to jolt herself into a state of normalcy. It helps her to function, for the most part, like a respectable human being. But inside, she feels anything but human. In her mind, where witty banter and important facts are stored, there now is a resounding whooshing sound like wind passing between her ears, making it impossible for her to say anything more than "um, hmmm, uh, mmmm."
When I'm in my regular non-zombified state, I have a good memory. Ok, so I don't remember EVERYTHING from my crazy past for those of you with those "Hey, remember when we all went to that house party and the guy you liked was hitting on some ugly girl so you took his shoes and put them in the freezer" stories.* I'm talking about where I put my keys, the name of the person I just shook hands with, things I have to buy at the store and those sorts of things. In zombie-mode, I suddenly look point blank at someone I know and say, "um, hmmm, uh, mmmm." And I put my keys in absurd places and have to spend all day looking for them. Even in college when I'd stumble back to my dorm room in what could only politely be called a drunken stupor, I'd ALWAYS manage to find my keys in my pigsty of a room the next morning when I had no recollection as to HOW I'd gotten back to my room.
Yes, Mombie the Zombie does some strange things but just as you get used to her being around, a certain cute but grouchy (and likely teething) baby goes to sleep. And Mombie the Zombie goes back into the netherworld until Jennifer summons her presence again when sleep eludes her yet again.
*Disclaimer: I may or may not have shoved someone's sandals into the freezer once upon a time. I plead the fifth. Hey, don't judge me, monkey.
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