I think months of no solid sleep have finally worn me down. I can’t even so much as look at my bed without wanting to just go face first into it. If given the opportunity to nap I become incredibly delusional. Meaning, then I think I can stay there all day and if I can’t then don’t offer me the possibility.
I’ve started to go to bed before the sun even sets and yet I am still tired when I wake up. Probably because that wake up is at 2 and 3 and 4 and 5. My friend Kristen likes to say, “who knew the third one would push me right over the edge.” I am right there with her. For all The Fifth Element’s sweetness and charm it is a lethal, massively tiring job taking care of three little ones under five. Those people who say that adding a third one is nothing are straight up possum-on-meth fuck nuts insane. Oh, indeed.
I don’t sugar coat it. I can’t. Why bother. When people ask me what having three kids is like I look them straight in the eye and say, “It’s hard. It’s really hard.”
