Am I a Bad Parent, or Just Tired?
Why getting sleep makes me a better mom
One of the most shocking things to discover in the hazy, trippy—let’s be honest—horror show that is having a newborn was that while I may have been tired in my pre-parenthood life, I’d never been this tired. I’d survived all-nighters — studying, partying, traveling, insomnia, anxiety, writing — but the thing about that kind of tired is you say to yourself, “Eh, no biggie. I’ll just sleep as long as I need to later.” And then you tra-la-la to the coffee shop for hours and meet a friend for a spontaneous drink and end the night cuddled in a blankie watching Netflix before dragging yourself to your bed, where you can sleep until noon the next day, at which point you languish until late afternoon.
Your time is your own, pre-children. There is always time to catch up on sleep or just to gather yourself in the solitude of your bathroom without the caterwauling of your offspring. Some of you might be thinking, “Duh, how did she not realize that would change?” LOL, strangers — I did realize it. Preparing myself did nothing to help me.
With both my babies, I got so tired that I was in physical pain. I staggered from room to room like I’d been roofied. I nearly fainted in a Potbelly Sandwich Shop. I kept myself awake by envisioning how gross my hair would be if I fell onto the…
