My kid doesn’t sleep. I have a cute-ass kitchen but my KID DOESN’T EVER SLEEP. God. 3:30 am this morning he was up for the day. I feel like my eyes are looking at you from the very back of my skull, sunken deep into my head. I drank six cups of coffee today. This cannot be good.
We had a dinner for the women of the firm tonight. While I was enjoying pinot noir and morel mushroom covered salmon, my nanny was cleaning poop out of the tub. I gave her an extra tenner for that. I find our disparate evening experiences a sort of poetic, if muddled, expression of women’s work these days. Don’t ask me what it means. I had a lot of pinot noir.
Tomorrow, I will go to their Halloween party. Liam will be Frankenstein, Jack will be a bat, I will be a witch, and the Professor, who canceled classes, will be here. Probably not dressed up, because that ain’t his thing, but he’ll be here. According to my very clever sister, we are the Munsters: I am Lily, Jack is Grandpa, Liam is Herman, and the Professor will just be the normal girl daughter/niece/cousin person.
Tonight, I hope I sleep more than an hour. God bless my two year old’s little insomniac heart.