[:en]It’s summertime! Which means: sleeping in til noon, sunbathing by the pool, dancing around a campfire, traveling to exotic locations….
OH WAIT, I’m a MOM. I don’t do any of those things. It’s seven in the morning and I just listened to my husband’s alarm go off for the umpteenth time in half an hour. How he can sleep through that without budging an eyelash is quite possibly one of life’s greatest mysteries. Alas, it will be me to shake the wild shit out of him until he either angrily yells out that he’s awake (you’re welcome?) or gently rolls over for a morning thrill. No, I do not want to be touched right now. In the four hours since getting home from my night shift job, I (1.) nursed a toddler who thinks my tits are his personal chew toys, (2.) consoled a preschooler while cleaning and changing wets sheets and blankets, (3.) cleaned whatever the hell crap I stepped into that wasn’t on the kitchen floor when I left for work, (4.) took the time to investigate the odd substance I once again find smeared on the hallway walls, (5.) decide it was just some experimental government goo put there to help better keep tabs on me during my trials of sleep deprivation rather than face the logical explanation that it is in fact shit smeared about from the open diaper at the end of the hallway.
I’m not in a logical state of mind right now. I’ve slept less than six of the previous 48 hours and hopes are slowly diminishing of adding to that total today. So I ignore the mess; the dishes caked with food, the forbidden toys on my once clean kitchen floor, the basket of clean laundry now littering my child’s room, and I sleep.