February 26, 2017
There was a period of about six months following the birth of the Heir Apparent during which I was functionally a zombie. A decent night’s sleep consisted of perhaps four hours, broken into two-hour blocks. Ah, good times. But gradually the HA began sleeping through the night on a more-or-less consistent basis.
Bringing this up to near the present day: Wednesday to be precise. The second set of lower molars are coming in. Apparently that is a process fraught with a certain amount of discomfort. Discomfort which decides to manifest itself mostly during the night. All night. Children, you should know, are not naturally predisposed to stoic acceptance of discomfort.
The upshot is that I’m enjoying a scaled-down example of history repeating itself. I do miss sleep. I really, really do. Seriously, I’m not kidding. Sleep, if I’ve done something to offend you, I humbly beg your forgiveness. Come back to me, oh gift of Hypnos. And Morpheus, knock if off with the creepy-ass dreams you engender those few moments I am asleep.
So my outlining of the next project has not proceeded as far as I’d hoped by this point, is what I’m saying.