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The brutal truth of me, without all the sugary coating.
Here I am just me, UNCUT and UNEDITED.
I talk about my family, my divorce, and a lot about MAKEUP.
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Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Running out of time

I love my sleep more than most people. Ok, more than some people. But seriously, I could sleep 23 hrs every day and not feel like I wasted my life. You might as well make my headstone now, because this is what it should say. 
where i found this

My love of sleep is by far the most difficult part about parenting for me. (Perhaps it is for everyone? IDK.) In addition to all the fun of the whole newborn-stage thing, I was blessed with three children who naturally despise sleep. Whenever people say, "My cleverly-named-child was sleeping through the night at two weeks," I get stabby.

Because of my love of sleep and my kids' hatred of sleep, I've spent many, many nights fighting for every last moment I could trick them into giving me. Lately I'm realizing just how little time I have left with my little ones. Don't get me wrong, they're still young, but Josh is already halfway to eighteen. Asher is a little grown-up in a kid's body, and Max is two-and-a-half going on middle-age.

Quite honestly when I was pregnant with Asher I thought it would make me feel better about missing my little Josh baby if I had another little baby around. I legitimately thought that I was just missing the fact that he was a baby, so having another baby would solve that problem, right? So wrong. Second baby isn't the same person as first baby. I missed baby JOSH, and no matter how cute or fun (or awful) baby Asher was, it didn't make me feel even a tiny bit better about my baby Josh growing up. (Same is true for third baby, although at least I expected it that time.) 

Max is only two. But he speaks in complete, proper sentences. He is completely on his own program. If Max doesn't want something to happen, there is absolutely, positively no way to make it happen. If Max DOES want something, it is absolute. It will happen. He will get it. Right now he wants ME. The point is that my time is running out.


This (above) was cross-stitched and hung on the wall of our (laundry room?) when I was growing up. It made me teary even as a kid when I read it, but now I might as well get out the tissues just thinking about it.

Lately I've been losing a little more sleep. I've gone lax on bedtime and have broken my No Kids in Mommy's Bed rule about a thousand times the last few weeks. I'm tired all the time and my fuse is extra short, but I just can't help myself. When that little voice says, "But my want lay with you, Mama," I simply must hug him a little tighter and a little longer. 

Because they aren't kidding... babies really don't keep.


  1. they don't.
    We can always sleep when we're dead ;)

  2. Awwww! I don't blame you one bit. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the most pushover mum on the planet when my time comes; I hate telling kids no! :)

    Somewhat related: Someone posted on Facebook today that the average person spends 33% of their life sleeping, and after a handful of comments about that being a wasted life, I came on and said, "8 hours is 1/3 of 24. If you sleep the recommended number of hours per night, yes, you'll spend 1/3 of your life asleep. Not so unreasonable!" And that's the sort of thing that makes me really popular.


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