Sweet Nocturnal Nothings

It's a very different world during those wee hours of the morning. It's a place reserved for insomniacs, third shift workers, and, of course, new moms.

If you add up all those nights of sleeplessness, you can have some moments of questionable judgement. I'm thinking it must be all the lack of oxygen going to the brain since I yawn more than I speak nowadays. (Isn't that the reason they say you yawn? Lack of oxygen? I'd google it to double check but I'm too tired to even move my clicking finger.)

The first observation I've made about my very awesome hypothesis (No sleepy make you act dweeby) involves the television. Now, when I sleep, I have to have the room dark and quiet. Thus, no tv. (Well, it can be physically present, just not activated. It needs to be sleeping the same time I am.) When you're trying to change a newborn's diaper, however, total darkness doesn't work out for you so much.

The solution? Turn the tv on (muted) to get enough light in the room to make sure you aren't diapering a thigh and not enough to make the kid think it's actually noon instead of midnight. Plus, it will help me stay awake through the feeding process, right? Wrong. I forgot I take my glasses off and now I'm pinned by sweet nursing baby on the arm closest to the stand where my spectacles are. So I'm now watching bad middle-of- the-night programming, and by watching I mean staring zombie like at a blurry blob like area where the tv is.

The second, and probably funniest, observation occurred before I got the ingenious idea to use the tv as a night light. I was using my iPhone as a flash light for a few nights. Yes, I know, there's an app for that. But my screen is also bright enough to illuminate a small area and he's only 6 weeks old, how big is his diapering area anyway?

The problem? My pissed off son (who loathes diaper changes, clothing changes, and anything else that involves water, wipes, or naked parts of his body) gave a one, two jab to the touch screen "flashlight"with his uncovered foot and the next thing I know, my phone is trying to Face Time call someone. I panic, as it's the ungodly time of 2:43 in the morning, and shut it off quickly. Luckily I see that it was my husband that he was trying to get on the line. (Maybe he was like, "Hey Dad, can you bring Mom a flashlight please? It'd make this diaper changing thing go much easier so I can get to the boob juice already.")

So, I guess what I'm saying is, uh, something. It might have even been important. Was it important? Or funny? Or maybe informative? I honestly don't know. I lost my train of thought at 2:30 in the morning. If I find it, I'll get back to you. Meanwhile, whisper some sweet nocturnal nothings in my ear (You'll get 8 hours uninterrupted sleep) and we'll call it a night.