I've only known one person in my entire life who actually thrives with very minimal sleep. 3 to 4 hours a night, precisely. The thought of that makes my legs achey and my eyelids heavy. I know other people who are just fine when they don't get enough. That is commendable to me. Me, however, is an exception. I generally try not think of myself as 'the exception' and more 'the rule.' (<- elizabethtown) Because I'm not exceptional, I am just the same as everyone else. Except when it comes to sleep. I take after my mom and grandmother (okay, so we're back to square one. I'm not exceptional. Even with sleep). They can sleep anytime. Anywhere. My grandmother says she could sleep on a clothesline (I think that's how it goes, I'm so terrible with sayings). So I can sleep no matter what.
The problem is without sleep I am a monster. And that's only a slight exaggeration. For realz.
My babies tend not to sleep all of their seventh month of life. Not sure why. So all night long I'm tossing and turning and just trying to get this baby to sleep. (She's in bed with us because that's how we roll. Literally) Needless to say, I've been a little bit edgy, foggy, grumpy, pissed, confused, hungry hungry hungry (why? why? does it always go back to food for me!?)
Until last night. She slept again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AKA pancakes and David Gray for breakfast, shopping, visitors, cleaning, hotdogs for lunch, no nap while my kids are napping which equals blogging and cookie dough. Because when I'm happy I eat, too.
So I think I'll go tie up the loose ends of my life right now and maybe even work out. Because I have energy again. relief.