My husband was pacing the other night as I was trying to write one of our infamous to-don’t lists (that’s a to-do list that never gets done). It’s not like him to pace and, quite honestly, it was irritating and distracting.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
“I’m walking to stay awake,” he answered with a straight face.
I laughed. Hard. But then I realized this was a wonderful example of exactly how pathetic our life had become.
Just to be clear, we do not have infants. We’re not getting up at all hours of the night to feed, comfort, or change dirty diapers. Our kids are eight and ten years old, yet we are still so completely sleep-deprived our days are lived in child-fog. Dude, back off. Child-fog is real.
We walk around like zombies (good-looking ones without the cannibalism thing) and I’m wondering when this is going to end. How old do our kids need to be before we get a decent night’s sleep?
My Sunday thoughts in 200 words or less.