And I don't think there is an end in sight.
You see, I've lived through the "I'm So Hungover I Might Die" tired days of college and quickly learned to cope with my "I Just Worked Four Twelve Hour Days As A Nurse And I'm Ready To Fall On My Face" tired but the kind of tired that I just can't seem to shake is the current state of "I Don't Think I've Slept A Really Good Sleep Since June 2010 And Now I'm Responsible For Keeping Not Only One Small Human Out Of The ER But Two Small Humans Out Of The ER" exhaustion.
I used pride myself on being able to function on four to five hours of sleep. In fact, I may have used to even brag about it. "Oh me? I'm not tired. I only got four hours of sleep last night but I feel like I could conquer the world!" Rah! Rah!
Today? The Exhausted Mom Of Two AP would like to punch The Braggy Skinny I Don't Need Sleep At All AP right in the face. I should have slept when the sleeping was good. Or something of the sort.
It doesn't even matter how many hours of sleep I get any more. Three hours feels just like seven hours although if I'm being honest, I can't even remember what seven hours feels like. Just when The Toddler had stopped randomly waking up 5 out of 7 mornings a week screaming bloody murder at 3am (Ibuprofen gods, I am bowing down to you as I type), The Baby decided it was no longer cool to sleep through the night only waking once to eat but would rather blaze his own trail waking twice to eat and taking forever and a day to fall back to sleep at 5am.
Bags have taken up permanent residence underneath my eyes and at this rate? They look more like a full set of luggage than just a bag or two.
Will someone please pass the coffee? I'll have an extra shot of espresso. Or two.