Sleepless in SW

Last night qualified as one of the top five most sleepless nights since being initiated into the sleepless mothers' club. At one point in the middle of the night after the umpteenth wakeup, I told Alex, "I might want to just put her in a dresser drawer." I don't know what the Bean's deal was last night, but it's early morning now and she's already awake, two hours before usual. I'm super exhausted and I feel like shit, like I slept only 3 hours. Oh wait, I think I did. And I am not a 22-year-old anymore. And I'm coming off some crazy dream about be a surrogate. Just what I need right now. All so we can buy an AWD minivan.

Also, did I mention that today is Wednesday? That means it's a Nora day. Which means my patience gets tested to the max, even if I had the patience of coming off a full 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep on a bed made of clouds where little angels massaged my feet and played with my hair all night long. Wednesday's are the proof that I'm no saint, not that that was really in question. I can barely keep my cool by hour three of wearing someone else's baby and having interacted with my own fewer than a five minutes all morning. The Bean is a "one hand baby," Nora is a "two-plus hands baby", and I've only got two hands. That just doesn't add up. But it appears the baby-trading arrangement will be short lived and will likely come to an end after next week. It's just not sustainable, nor particularly pleasant. So I forge on ahead with the headache that is establishing good, reliable, affordable childcare. Dammit mom, this was supposed to be your job. So far I've gotten as far as posting a request for recommendations on my neighborhood mom Facebook page, and googling some local daycares. All that said, I think I now understand why housewives of old took little red pills by day (amphetamines) and little blue pills by night (downers), or something like that. You gotta get the help - to stay awake and then later to fall asleep - where you can.

So in a particularly brave (read:stupid) feat, tonight we decided we are going to sleep-train Francie. The real way. Via the extinction method. Or so we say. I actually just took 1/2 a Valium and am sleeping in the guest room, in part so I can't hear Francie's cries, and in part so Alex and I don't erupt into yet another middle-of-the-night fight. Don't judge me. Chronic sleep deprivation has made others do crazier things. Those things that I'm responsibly avoiding doing by sleeping independently, in a drug induced state, in a room furthest away from the nursery. Except I'm already hearing phantom cries. I think I'll sleep with the same white noise app I use for the Bean. And it's a good thing Nick set up the creepy spy cam so I can watch Francie (on mute) to make sure all is okay in her world. We want to make sure she stays comfortably in bed and doesn't get herself all twisted. And there are a couple bottles of milk in the fridge in case we can't make it through the night. On that note, I'm starting to feel a little funny (in a good way) and should probably capitalize on the the few hours of good rest I'm after.

Godspeed. I hope we make it out alive.