Monday, February 20, 2012

6.2.12 - The shower incident


I got into the shower tonight with my glasses still on. I’m pretty sure that anyone who wears glasses all the time has done something similar at least once. The issue, however, is that once I realized it, I didn’t have the inclination to remove myself or them from the shower’s powerful hot stream of comfort; I merely leaned my head forward a bit.

What’s wrong with this picture?

I am the proud mother of a happy, healthy and utterly hysterical (in the sense that he makes me laugh) 8 month old baby boy. A better baby I couldn’t have dreamed of; tfu tfu tfu and all that jazz. I really do count my blessings every day for having such a gift of a child. I’m also blessed with a wonderful husband who is supportive, an active parent and quite a good cook (not to mention an excellent masseuse) and a great job in my field that pays well and lets me enjoy my life in Tel Aviv quite happily. I’m also 29 years old and healthy.

So why, may I ask, am I so tired?

The simple answer lies somewhere between the part when I said I had a baby and the fact that I work. Either one of those can be “blamed”, but the truth is that I get at least 7 hours sleep a night these days. I drink my morning coffee with gusto and even enjoy, albeit briefly, some time to myself in the mornings on the way to work. That’s a lot more than many parents, or employees for that matter in my position, could ask for. Yet I still have an overwhelming sense of fatigue that causes me, once I sit down for the evening (after the baby has gone down for the night, dinner made and eaten and cleaned up, lunch packed for tomorrow and washing folded), to fall into a deep sleep before the opening credits of whatever show I had intended to watch have even finished. It’s nonsensical; it even seems a tad indulgent. It intrigues me.

I’m going to stretch my mind back to the magical time that I’ve almost entirely forgotten that I will term “BJE” – Before Judah Entered. (My son’s name is Judah. Let’s move on.) BJE, especially a few months BJE when I was the size of a mini van and had no idea where my feet were, weren’t as easy as some may think. I couldn’t sleep then, either; my back ached, I could never get comfortable, and the overt impending reminder of what was about to happen sometimes kept me up nights. I myself have done what a lot new mums might think is cute to those who are still pregnant by saying,“sleep now, because you wont when the baby comes” etc. but I realize now that I should keep such platitudes to myself. If I’m wondering now why I’m so damn tired its because I need to remember that in fact, I’ve not had a good night’s sleep in over a Goddamn year. I haven’t slept properly since the day I looked at a pee-covered stick to find out I had life growing inside me that wasn’t the result of bad sushi. So no matter how much “sleep” I get now (the inverted commas are to point out that no parent sleeps deeply overnight – every moan and groan and nudge and creek set off a series of alarm bells in your head) the truth is that I’ve been sleep deprived for quite a while. Add to this in my particular case the fact that I’ve traveled twice now in the past 12 months to the furthest bloody end of the Earth and back (Australia) and the reality suggests my body clock might well have a mild case of schizophrenia. And that is, actually, ok.

So there. It’s justified. I don’t feel bad now. About this, anyway. I’m a parent; the next guilt trip is surely hiding around the corner waiting to nab me, the little bastard. So I’m ready.  Till next time.

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