I think I'm getting the same amount of sleep since Halia's birth, but the amount of sleep isn't the problem. The problem is the length of time that I get to sleep before I'm woken up. And it's not even Halia's fault. It's Jade's (and the cat's and the telephone's).
Jade, for some mysterious reason (she's doing great on the ketogenic diet, by the way), falls asleep at the normal time, but then wakes up and REFUSES to go back to sleep until well after midnight. Oh, she'll pretend to be asleep, but the moment my head hits the pillow and I start to drift off to the land of Nod, she starts crying. Or talking. Or playing. Or crying and playing and talking at the same time. Since Fawn is usually attached to Halia (or, rather, since Halia is usually attached to Fawn), guess whose responsibility it is to deal with Jade?
All of this has resulted in the bizarre situation of the mother of a newborn getting better sleep than the father.
And the father is going insane! As I type this (23:46), she is STILL not asleep! She is pretending to be asleep, but she's not asleep. Not even close! She'll be at this "game" until well past 1:00 am, I'm sure!
I'd try to fall asleep, but I have learned this past week that trying to fall asleep is worse than trying to stay awake. The whole getting-woken-up-the-moment-I-try-to-fall-asleep-thing is maddening! MADDENING!
It's worse than...
... telemarketers calling every time you sit down to your supper!
...a line of people giving you "wet willies"!
...trying to go for a pee at a public urinal, but getting constantly interrupted mid-stream because someone keeps pinching your bum!
Of course, none of those things have happened to me, but they were the only things that I could think of that come anywhere close to describing the frustrations and insanity caused by the sleep-deprivation torture tactics that are being inflicted on me by my own daughter.
And it is torture!
But I'll show her. I won't spill the beans. I'll tell her nothing. Nothing!
Just my name, rank and cereal number...
Second-in-command, Parental Unit
Two scoops of raisins.