I slept for three hours last night. And the night before that, too.
It feels like I am wading through waist-high molasses, trying to stay on top of the tasks and demands at hand, but the sludge of sleep deprivation hinders my every move.
I knew having three kids this close in age would be hard, but some days it feels like I will forever be stranded in this purgatory of poop-smeared diapers, fierce tantrums, and desperate tiredness.
One look at my eldest daughter, however, as she nears her fifth birthday, and I have a walking, breathing reminder of how fast it all truly goes. Her lithe, long legs, her ridiculous vocabulary and sense of humour, her grasp on the world as she knows it: all these things remind me that I won’t be in this stage forever and I just might even miss it someday.
Not today, but someday.