three steps back

If my grammar, spelling or general sense sucks today, I'm sorry, I got three hours of sleep last night. Tom likes to point out that I'm prone to exaggerations like, "I was up a million times with the baby last night." This time, however, no hyperbole is needed.

I went to bed around 11 last night and Leila woke up when she heard me come in the room so I nursed her. I had just put her back in her own bed when Tom came in at 12 and woke her up again. It's not his fault, she's a light sleeper when she's first asleep, anyway I tried to nurse her again, but she wasn't having any of it, so I tired to rock her and again she wasn't having any of it. She was wide awake and thrashing around. So I turned on the light and hung out with her for a while, she was pretty quiet and docile and pooped twice. Her diaper basically looked like a very large person had blown their nose in it, poor bean. Her insides are obviously still not happy. Anyway, the last time I looked at the clock it was 2:10am. Then she was up again at 3:30am. And then again for real at 5:30am. Between 5:30 and 7 she sort of thrashed around while I lay their half-awake but too tired to do anything about it. At 7 I got up and gave her to Tom (who had wisely chosen the living-room as a place of more uninterrupted rest), and then I slept for another hour until he left for work.

Basically, I want to die. I am so tired I think my brain is going to fall out of my head. You know that weird dissociated feeling you get when you drink too much cough syrup? That's me, all the time. Also, my landlord is renovating the suite downstairs so while I attempt to nap all I'll hear are hammers...