Sleep Deprivation

Summoned by phone call in the wee hours of the morning, My Fella and I climbed out of bed and trudged across the street to look after Adorable Nephew while his baby brother was kickpunching his way out of the womb. By the time we arrived and received our instructions, midnight had come and gone. By the time the expectant parents concluded OK IT’S DEFINITELY TIME TO GO NOW*, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

(Shortly after they departed, we had to explain to a rather fretful Adorable Nephew why his parents had decamped in the middle of the night. I think it went well, actually. I said, “Your mom went to give birth to your brother. She’ll be back.” To which he responded, “Ok,” and, after announcing his intention to go back to sleep, did precisely this.)

Then, about an hour and a half later (!), we received confirmation that Nephew Two: Electric Boogaloo had arrived like a sea lion down a waterslide.

And, at that point, I realized that my chances of getting anything like a decent night’s rest were slim to nil…so I poured myself a cup of coffee, fixed myself a snack, and settled in to watch TV until sunrise. (Also, did some dishes because, I don’t know, it’s the kind of thing I’d want taken care of.) Eventually, My Fella decided to adjourn to the guest room and catch a few ZZZs; I opted to stay awake, suspecting that — for me, anyway — no sleep at all is better than a token amount.

It wasn’t easy. Like the shivering and disoriented mountaineer 300 yards from the summit, I was frequently tempted to succumb to the warm, soft oblivion of slumber.

I’m proud to say, I DID NOT DO THIS THING.

Just listen to your body, people always say, which is terrible advice. I should know, because MY body is always making suggestions of questionable merit, always whispering tricksy things like, “Go on, girl! Make some adorable Greek-o-Rican babies you can’t afford!” or “Don’t worry, this action you’re contemplating? Is totally safe — it’s not like you’re going to fall and injure yourself.” (Right, because who needs gross and/or fine motor skills?**)

And thus did I stay up all night. It was tough, particularly during the Gitmo Hour of 4:30-5:30 AM, so named because you have no idea how or why you ended up there but dude, it’s bad and furthermore, there’s every reason to believe that this ordeal will never end.

But I pushed through my fatigue and — since about 6 this morning — I’ve been surprisingly alert and responsive to my amazing technicolor surroundings.

The downside is that my schedule is completely topsy-turvy and now that it’s bedtime I can’t actually fall asleep.

*I am increasingly glad that I did not take My Fella’s surname as my own, given that it appears to be Greek for “useless f*cking dawdler, makes everyone wait 40 minutes while he puts on socks, searches for car keys, etc.
**I do. I need them.
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