Tired.

Ho. Lee. Shit.

Let me tell you something about having a toddler and being tired. It is a force. An intrusive alarm clock ringing cymbals crashing body crushing force.

When they are young, these children go into bed around 6:30-7:00. They sleep, like sweet angels, through the night (if you are lucky and are past that infant "baby wakes every 3 hours-or twenty minutes- for a diaper change, bottle, nurse, binky, chicken caesar wrap [or whatever]" phase). Yes, if you are lucky and you have a toddler, that child sleeps through the evening hours while you are busy greedily capturing some time for yourself. You are doing laundry or catching up on emails or, as I tell in an earlier post, staring at the wall. You fall into bed around 11 and that toddler decides to be done sleeping at 5am.

(bear in mind you haven't gotten 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep because at some point during the night your husband drapes his arm across your face or the dog steps on your throat or the 4 year old needs a snuggle).

Anyway.
At 5am that toddler does not wake with the same molasses slow process we adults do. Oh. No. Sir. Eee.
That toddler wakes ready to motherfuckin' play.

Nope, play is not the right word.
That toddler wakes ready to interACT.
To bang pots.
To throw shoes at your head.

To communicate in the only way that they know how.
The high pitched wake the hibernating squirrels scream.

At this point, as an exhausted parent, you become irrational.
You bargain with God.
You offer to BECOME a hibernating squirrel.
You offer to do and give anything for five more minutes of sleep in a bed that seems like Mecca.

You think to yourself, if the doorbell rang and a stranger was standing there and that stranger offered to take my sweet child for the hours between 5 and 7:30am, I would give that stranger my child and crawl guiltlessly back into bed.

But, no such stranger comes and you find yourself peering out the window into the dark and seeing if there are lights in your neighbor's windows. Not because you would go over and knock on their door and hand over your toddler. No, you look to see if any other human is experiencing the same suffering as you.

Let me tell you, they are not.
They are sleeping.

And you. You? You, are feeding your toddler blueberry yogurt. You are gathering up dropped smashed cheerios because even the dog doesn't get up this early. You are playing farm. Picking up a thrown spoon.

By the time you speak to normal waking humans at around 8am, you realize that you have been awake for three hours.

Wanna torture prisoners of war?
Give em' a toddler and run.