|Not in the least bit sleep deprived. Not me.|
Yes, I drink coffee, every morning. I wish I didn't have to - but it makes me so much happier to have it, that I allow it. A splash of lactose free milk and a generous dollop of sweetener, and I can face anything.
But I find myself slipping into a funk, wondering when it will end. I know it will, but when. And then, in the larger scheme, I feel ashamed for it. Knowing that there are people with real problems with real cause for worry at night, and here I am, in the dark, rubbing my son's back and the soft curls on his head.
Claire went through a period of truly terrible sleep as well. She had night terrors the entire summer after her third birthday, followed by months of nightmares. And now, she is the greatest sleeper ever, even when we were camping. She just gets comfortable and out she goes.
I know Ben will get there, I do. But in the here and now, in the small hours, in the middle of the night, sometimes I stand there, reaching into the darkness and I wonder if he ever will.