I just got home from work and I'm realizing that my feet are aching...throbbing to be exact. Come to think of it, they should be worn to nubs as much as I walk around on them at work. It's about a three mile hike to the nearest restroom, let alone the mile and a half to the break room. If the floor wasn't made of marble, it would be rife with trenches, dug from the bustling feet of the Denver TSA.
On average I get about four straight hours of sleep each night - I cannot function on less than eight. You do the math...four hours short on sleep = one cranky Kimmy. I try to nap, even if it's bits at a time. I've learned to nap in about five-minute increments with my kids finding the need to let me know as often as they can, and as loud as they can, what's on their minds. While I want to become excited that the Wonder Pets have saved the baby animal, I secretly wish they would do it on their own time, not while I am longing to be drunk with sleep.
A few days ago I took Brandon to the library - big mistake. A quiet, relaxing room full of books is no place for the severely pooped. While all the other mothers dutifully read to their babies with their saccharine-sweet voices (gag!), I found myself slumped over in a comfy chair while Brandon tinkered on the computer. I did my best to keep from drooling as I sank deeper and deeper into a thoughtless void. Of course Brandon, subconsciously burdened with the assignment of keeping me on my toes, shrieked with delight every time he made the ant turn a different color. And as any mother knows, that delight comes with the phrase, "Look Mama! Look!! LOOK!!!"
But I digress - I love my kids, I love my job, and I love my sleep. One of these days I'm going to figure out how to balance each and every one of them out. Until then, if you find me drooling, just shout in my ear, "The Wonder Pets saved the day!" and I'll snap right out of it, if only for a second.