When I see people they always ask me how I am feeling (it is really nice, btw) and I always respond with pretty much the same thing. "I am doing really well... just pretty tired."
Let be known, that I have a tendency to play this down at times so I don't seem to be complaining. I know, I wish I didn't do it too. Work in progress. I will say this whole sleepy thing leads to newer versions of a Julie. Over exhaustion definitely challenges my ability to muster patience in several confrontations with very opinionated littles. It is very much a DIG deep situation. Additionally, lack of slumber can make normal moments seem hilarious... like deliriously funny. Others, leave me in the embrace of apathy. Moments where I just sort of inhale with complete acceptance that yes... this is happening.
Last Sunday was technically a Monday morning when we crawled into bed. Seems to happen more often than not. As we turned down the sheets, we were met with a surprising brown streak down the center of our bed. We were forced to rely on the smell test. Chocolate or poop. Keeping it classy, folks. Two sniffs later and we had a chocolate bunny confirmation. My only guess is that Easter morning Gabriel consumed said chocolate bunny, promptly entered a food coma and passed out in our bed face down. What can I say? We are attentive parents. And yes, seven days later... the faded streak of brown still greets me as I climb into bed. And reality does get a little worse. Had it not been the markings of one ill fated chocolate bunny, I can't say with complete certainty that we would have changed the sheets in the early hours of the morning. In fact it is much more likely that in that moment, we would reached for a baby wipe, put down a towel and looked at each other with the joint knowledge that
Yes. This is happening.