Pajama Day

I feel like I have joined the land of the living dead.

My level of exhaustion is impressive. I am changing lanes and merging into full on chronic fatigue syndrome. All thanks to Lucy.

Lucy is a fighter. A warrior. A warrior princess who only gets stronger by sucking the life force out of sleepy, zombie parents.

Every night, during our bedtime battle, I fear the morning. I fear the alarm. I fear the land of the living.

I appreciate all the suggestions and concerns of my friends and family. Yes. I have done some Internet research. Yes. I have tried naps. Yes. I have tried no naps. Yes. I have tried locking her bedroom door. Yes. I have tried it all. She is impermeable. I bet you that my little bedtime warrior has the power to convert Mormon Mitt Romney to Pro-Choice.

I decided last night, while pretending to watch the presidential debate, that if the government needs any help with prisoners of war, they could always send them to my house. I will lock them in a room with Lucy. And she can water board their asses until they crack. If that doesn't work. Well, then I can take them to work with me and they can answer the call lights of deranged patients for hours on end- since I am too tired to.

Anyways, as I continue my daily battles with Lucy, I tell myself that I should take more and more pictures of her. Pictures that are speechless, still, and sweet. Pictures that will capture the moment and document a lifetime. Pictures that will hopefully, one day, help me to look back and coo like a baby. Remind me of the love I have for her. Remind me that all of these sleepless nights, battles, and tears were worth it. Hopefully, my (dark) angel will one day make me proud. Cure cancer, fly to the moon. Hell, just sleep through the night. And wake up human.

 

Lucy had pajama day at school. So if you need me, just look for the zombie mom still in her pajamas. Yep. That's right. I'm in my pajamas too, its only fair.