Harangue

Today I feel like my brain floated out of my head and into the stratosphere.  Or maybe it's floating in a blizzard somewhere in Antarctica, and that's why my head feels so fuzzy. Or maybe it's because I haven't slept in 5 1/2 months. Yeah, that's probably it.
Today I should be cleaning my house and doing homework, packing for our trip, and finishing Christmas presents...but I don't want to. I need to write, but my head feels so foggy I'm not sure what to write. I'm not entirely sure I've retained the ability to form coherent thoughts. You've been warned.
Our lives with Monkey have gotten complicated. Why? The Sleeping Conundrum, of course. I've given up on trying to get him to sleep more than 3 hours at a time at night, to sleep in his own bed, and put himself to sleep. Okay, so he does put himself to sleep most of the time, so that's nice. He's fine. He really is a happy little boy. My husband and I on the other hand, are at our wits end.
You know it's bad when your husband corners every parent we come across and frantically asks, "When did s/he start sleeping through the night?!?"
You see, he's still hopeful that one day Monkey will *magically* just sleep 7 hours. Because that's what everyone keeps telling us. "Oh, one day you'll just wake up and realize you slept a whole night!"
Yeah, right. I've come to the realization that some kids are just NOT sleepers. My husband, on the other hand, vows he never wants another child, because he doesn't want to go through this Sleeping Conundrum fiasco again.
We attended a family reunion a few months ago, and I nearly lost it because these cute (note sarcasm) old ladies kept telling me that something was wrong with my baby because he doesn't sleep. He must be allergic to something you're eating, you don't feed him that nasty formula, do you??? Good. My children never cried like that, what an ill-tempered child. Is he ever happy??
And then there's the Mommy Wars. Whether intentionally or not, the Mommy Wars is an unspoken competition to see who can have The Best Sleeper, The Best Eater, The Quietest Child, The Happiest Child, The Cleanest House, The Best Home-Cooked Meals. Some mommies don't notice it, some don't participate, and some battle so fiercely you've unfriended them and their constant Facebook reminders of how Pinterest-perfect their lives are: "4-hour workout today! Finally down to my pre-pregnancy weight [Look at this picture of me in my teeny-bikini, you fat lard butt!] Now my 2-week old triplets have just woken from a 5-hour nap and are helping me make lasagne imbottiti! Yum!" You know the type.
Well, you know what? My life isn't that flawlessly smooth. My house isn't always clean, my baby rarely sleeps and gets pretty cranky, he's also extremely high maintenance. We skip church more often than not. When churchy people come to check to see why we didn't go to church, most of the time I ignore their knocking until they go away. I get snippy with my husband over stupid things. He plays computer games and I look at cats on the internet for hours at a time (usually while holding Monkey, I'm not completely wasting my time). Our income is nonexistent. I have 40+ pounds of baby fat to lose. I don't have a gourmet meal on the table every night. My house isn't decorated perfectly. Some days I still struggle with my depression and other self-destructive tendencies. My life is far from being perfect.
And I'm okay with that.
It won't always be like this. Soon these sleepless nights will just be memories. One day we'll have money for dishwasher detergent. I'll lose the weight. We'll have time to have adventures. I won't be constantly stressed about how we're going to afford diapers and food, or how we're going to pay our bills. One day we will be graduated from college and have a steady income.
Some day soon things will be better. But for now, if you have a problem with me and my sweat pants and screaming baby, you can kiss my fat lard butt (pardon my French).