We're not sleeping lately. After two glorious, wonderful months of sleeping completely through the night without so much as a wimper, Rosie has declared war on sleep.
That is, unless she can sleep on me.
If you've ever had the pleasure of having a teething babe sleep on your chest, then you know that the only one getting any sleep is the baby. I just end up covered in drool and in this weird, half dream state where I'm constantly waking myself up to make sure I haven't dropped the baby on its head.
We obviously aren't co-sleepers. (Hats off to you co-sleeper folks!)
Rosie's war on sleep, doubled with my brain being on overdrive since the gruesome events that transpired in Newtown, CT last week have left me pretty emotionally drained. I've been avoiding news coverage as much as I can, but I never can seem to escape from the images of those 20 beautiful children. Dwija pretty much summed up how I'm feeling about the whole thing.
So for now, I'll pray. I'll mother. I'll drink too much coffee, and I'll recognize that this whole not sleeping thing will be over all too soon.