There's something to be said about sleep.
Or lack there of.
I feel like that the lacking is the main saying around here lately. I am so tired. Worn out. Exhausted. Call it whatever you may.
If Henry is sleeping I can't get my mind to stop.
What if something goes wrong with the house?
What if we move in and it's not what we thought it would be?
What if the dog hates it?
How am I going to decorate?
Should I paint now or just wait?
Will be have time to do what we need?
If I'm sleeping, Henry is not.
Oh, did I mention he cries?
If we're both sleeping that means...
Jeremy is taking up half the bed,
Mason is taking up a third and
Henry is taking up the rest.
And me? Well, I'm usually curled up into a ball in a corner somewhere wishing that I didn't have to try to twist my body into some crazy pretzel like shape just to lay down in my own bed.
Yup. That's been the last few weeks.
Like I said. Tired. Exhausted...etc. I'm going to try to go to bed. Henry is asleep (in his crib, mind you) and maybe if I squeeze my eyes shut really hard, I can get my mind to sleep too.