18 Hours and Counting

The last time I slept until 7:37 a.m. was in March. I am serious. I am up by 5:30 a.m. daily.

In the Mommy Hood, the days are long, but the years are short. I always try to keep that in mind…especially on days that start at 2:30 a.m.

Despite my body’s daily cries at the crack of dawn–for coffee, for an extra five minutes of sleep, for the magical appearance of a Mommy stunt-double–I can’t seem to go to bed before 11:30 p.m. each night. The bags under my eyes are carrying their own bags at this point. Yet I keep repeating the abusive cycle night after night.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Sure, I am in a state of semi-panic about our upcoming Bat Mitzvah bash. I am being stalked by vendors, tailors, and emcees (I am crafting rhymes as good as can be expected from a white Jewish girl for the reception). Appointments, trials, pick-ups, drop-offs, returns, and thrilling chases for elusive last-minute must-haves are all-consuming. Oh, and I am hemorrhaging money. The aforementioned could keep a Mommy up at night, but that’s not really the problem (tapping into my inner Dr. Phil here).

It wouldn’t be fair to blame it all on my son, either. Yes, he was the reason my day began at 2:30 a.m. ( a suspicious 100.5 fever that has yet to reveal its cause), but he crashed before the evening news. And I am still wide awake at 10:30 p.m., feeling eerily alert, after an 18-hour day of toddler/teenager trials and tribulations. My day is not ending soon; I am about to put clothes in the dryer, restock Alex’s diaper bag, and clean up the livingroom. What gives? I can’t stop!

Mommies, do you have trouble turning it off at the end of the day? Am I the only one who complains about lack of sleep but doesn’t sleep when she can?

Please tell me I am not alone on this one…