As I lay awake last night, into this morning, all the way until four a.m. when Pete brought Finn to me, leaving me awake for a few more hours, I listened to my brain grind. I churned over things that I had to do. I thought about not being able to sleep. I figured if I did fall asleep, the baby would just wake up at that moment, and I'd be on again. I haven't had what used to pass for sleep in a couple of weeks. My patience has been worn down to a shiny, though not attractive for its luster, nub. Even what used to pass for sleep was at most three straight hours followed by fitful spans of 30 minutes or so.
I decided last night that, before I try to go to sleep, I need to sit down and dump the contents of my brain somewhere, preferably not by unloading on Pete or howling at the moon. Perhaps by writing. Something. Anything. It does not have to be in this space, but it has to get the bits and pieces out of my space.
Today, Pete's mom arrived for a week's visit, during which she will be Finn's primary care giver during the day. The day care is on vacation. The main accomplishment so far has been the rearranging of our bedroom to accommodate a crib. I'd take a picture, but he appears to be sleeping in it at the moment, though I doubt it will last long. Last night he slept in bursts of 30 minutes. We finally gave him Tylenol, and he finally settled down, but I could not sleep. I got up and hung up and sorted clothes. I looked up how to make a fruit fly trap. I read. I listened to my brain clicking away.
The crib is the next thing. At the very least, it uncluttered our room a little bit, getting the cosleeper and pack-n-play out of there and stowed away, though I am a bit sorry to see the cosleeper go. He's just too big for it, and we had to listen for him very closely as the moment he would wake up, he was sitting up and ready to get himself right out of it. With the crib, at least we know that he can't hurl himself over the edge yet.
It's the crib my brother and I slept in, and it bears his teeth marks. Finn started chomping on it immediately the moment I set him in there to check it out. He crawled all around it and seemed quite pleased with himself. I doubt he will feel the same when he wakes up in there.
When I go to bed in a few minutes, I resolve not to think about work or the book or the savings account or the bathtub that needs scrubbing. I won't concern myself with what I am going to be when I grow up. I'll leave off fretting about family and friends. And I'll put a notepad by the bed.
I did get my haircut yesterday.
That was nice.