We’re going on about three weeks of colic with Sam, and I have to ask myself, how sleep deprived am I really? Am I too far gone to function, or could I be allowed to operate heavy equipment?
Well, let’s see. I’m getting a lot of work done. Since Sam’s birth, I’ve managed to finish up an e-book cover for a client and get the first draft of a website graphic done. I started working on a short story about a week after we came home from the hospital and so far I’ve written four thousand words. I expect the story will be finished in time for ERWA’s Blasphemy Theme Weekend which starts next Thursday. I’ve been able to work on my current colored pencil drawing, and it’s been slow going but I may actually finish it by the end of this month. I’ve also been brushing up on my cartooning and sketching, doing little practice sketches and doodles a couple of times a week. The house is fairly clean, I’ve been getting Cassie out to play every day even if it’s only in our own backyard and I’ve managed to get a shower every evening before bed. So on the surface I seem okay.
However, I just realized that I wrote up my end of the quarter work report back at the beginning of this month. The end of the quarter was yesterday, the last day of June, not three weeks ago. Why I thought the second quarter ended on the 31st of May I’ll never know. I’ve also done dumb things like put on a second set of disposable nursing pads over top of the perfectly clean set I was already wearing. I put my glasses in the refrigerator and then couldn’t find them for half an hour so I had to walk around blind. Twice I’ve headed out and turned right at the entrance to our subdivision when I meant to turn left and didn’t realize it until I arrived at the library on the opposite side of town from where I meant to go. While making lunch I’ve asked Cassie to hand me a frying pan when I wanted a fork. And during several conversations I’ve had to stop talking mid-sentence because I’d forgotten what it was I was trying to say. Oh, and let’s not forget the ugly mood swings and temper tantrums (mine, not the kids). For those alone I should not be allowed to operate any heavy equipment. I might actually be tempted to deliberately kill someone.
I’m a little frazzled I guess, but I am doing better that I expected after the arrival of child number two. Of course when you look back on all the recent blog entries, that sounds kind of scary, doesn’t it?
