To leave this picture uncaptioned would suggest that my morning has been a Sunday Funday–as they say–type of morning. (Social media is a heck of a filter.) Although this picture accurately depicts my Z Nugg throughly enjoying the blueberry pancakes–with scrambled eggs–I eventually made for my crew, it doesn’t accurately reflect what happened before the feasting.
Z Nugg has not been sleeping well these last few weeks. She’s been waking up on average 4-7 times a night, wanting only me. Last night she woke up at 3 am and didn’t go back down until 4:45 am. I am grateful she didn’t get up again until 7:54 am, but even with three hours of uninterrupted sleep, I feel like H E double hockey stick! I am grateful that Josh is present for us because he was able to give me about five minutes of rest before Z lost her head again. I am grateful that my baby still wants me to hold her because I know one day soon she won’t need me like this. I am grateful for the long nights because it means my baby is growing and with growing comes discomfort and sometimes even pain.
With all of this gratitude, though, exists guilt, frustration, and other not-so-pretty human emotions that cause a human to do things that may be out of character…to cope. Coping is a heck of a word without only one category. There are many ways of coping, and depending on the situation, the way I choose to cope varies. (I’m only human, and I try hard to remember this so I don’t hold myself to unrealistic expectations.) This morning, coping for me meant dropping whatever I was doing and walking out of my apartment, leaving Josh with a screaming infant who refuses (still refusing) to go to sleep and a toddler asking a thousand times when his pancakes would be ready. I pulled my hair, buried my face in my hands, said, “I just can’t be here right now,” and walked out slamming the door behind me. No one’s fault. I wasn’t mad at anyone. I had just gone past my threshold. I ended up coming back into the apartment to grab my keys to sit in my car, away from the chaos of life. I retreated. I cried. I sat in my own exhales–I didn’t even have the energy to open the windows of my car. I closed my eyes and just sat thinking of nothing. Well, actually, I did think of the fact that a tiny home may not be the best option for us. I don’t even know how long I was in my car. I didn’t have my phone or my watch and I had not put the key in the ignition. What brought me back upstairs with my crew was the knowledge that I had given myself the space to be human, to handle my own shit, and now I could be (more or less) present for my crew once again. I am so grateful for Josh for being present for me because without him I couldn’t have retreated, I would’ve probably internalized the fact that I was sleep deprived, I would’ve for sure yelled at both of my nuggets, and I would’ve resented Josh…all ugly things that come with not providing myself with the basic necessities to attempt to be the best I can be. I’ll be completely honest, I still feel negatively hypersensitive to everything that’s happening on around me, and I feel like I could pass out anywhere I sit right now–in any position really–and to top that off, Z Nugg still has not taken a nap since she woke up this morning, so she’s still crying at the top of her lungs (yes, as I type this, but I’ve seriously tried everything…don’t judge), but I’m alive, I’m here, and I’m with my family, so I’ll take that.