>Dain Bramage…

>I know that women claim to block out the experience of childbirth but I don’t. No, I block out the first months of life… or, more specifically, the first months of nights. With each child I am reminded, as if anew, of the staccato sleep patterns of a newborn. My own little ones are always on the small side, so my nights are truly dotted with feedings every 2 hours. While I’m quite good at making it through the night without actually getting out of bed, night after night of interrupted sleep and (here’s the rub) having to get out of bed the next morning with the rest of my miniature housemates — has left my brain addled, foggy, and frankly, malfunctioning.

I suppose calling your children by the wrong name is the right of any parents, especially those with 5 kids… but calling your kids by the names of other people’s children (did that), or not being able to access any name at all, and just screaming, “Child!” (that too)… well, that’s just embarrassing.

Last week I gave directions from the airport to our house to visiting relatives and sent them on a wild goose chase all over South Seattle before I realized I had confused ALL my lefts and right.

I am perpetually misplacing objects, and will soon be misplacing kids as I did when Fiona was a newborn and I left her in the car for 15 minutes at the park … before I remembered she was there.

And I stupidly tried wrapping up some loose ends at work when the baby was about a week old. All I can say is thank goodness I’m not a surgeon. (When Fi was a small baby I accidentally mailed a convict a chipotle salmon recipe instead of a legal document.)

I’d be curious to hear any other stories about the often embarrassing results of sleep deprivation…

Yawn.

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One response to “>Dain Bramage…

  1. >Wow. I can so relate. Two events that stick out in my mind: leaving the car keys on top of the car over the weekend and filling the washing cup with water and then hanging it back up on the wall.

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