Sunday, March 14, 2010

An Eight-Hour Eternity


Hold the freakin' presses.

My baby girls just slept for eight — COUNT 'EM...EIGHT — hours. We could drive to Dallas in that amount of time. Or ride a bike to Missouri. Or take a plane to Ireland.

Do you know what a person can do with that kind of time? Sleep. That's what I did. I technically got about seven hours of sleep, but who's counting!?

A few weeks ago we were waking every three hours, then we started sleeping four-hour chunks at night and then a couple of weeks ago, they stretched it to about five and a half hours during the middle of the night.

But eight hours?? Eight hours. I can't begin to tell you what it's like to sleep for such a continuous amount of time. I feel like I could climb Mt. Everest. Or swim the English Channel. Or make it through the day without needing a nap, which is just as remarkable.

To all of those who I told to bite me the other day, I'm sorry. I was just a little cranky. Ya know, with all the bottle making, baby feeding, bottle washing, bottle making, baby feeding, bottle...you get the idea. That kind of repetition would leave even the nicest person a little on edge.

So, I take it back. Well, at least until tomorrow when they decide 3 a.m. is the perfect time to wake up and eat.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so excited about your sleeping progress but please don't go climb Mt Everest! I just read Into Thin Air this weekend about the Everest disaster in '96 and so I won't let you go. That's all.

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