There is something masochistic in being a mother. Beyond the whole idolization of painful wonders of childbirth, there is a strange sense of self-actualization when a person survives a rough night with a feverish baby, or a teething baby, or a hungry baby. One often feels pride in how well she handles herself and her household on a few interrupted hours of sleep. Babies must apparently give off a pheromone that produces an affect similar to amphetamines; how else would one explain the mother's ability to go without sleep for months on end, her frequent disregard to the fact that she is covered in drool, vomit, or worse, and her frequent need for a "baby fix" as her own children grow. Some women will do anything to obtain a baby, often wiping out their bank accounts, and some extreme cases will even commit crimes!
Fortunately, I am not seeking a "fix," for my child has not slept since she has begun cutting molars a few months ago. Prior to that, she was still only sleeping at most 5 hours at a time. Last night I was up most of the night tending to the grumpy and feverish little thing. Today I am exhausted, and look worse than I feel. I am heading into work, and then will return home, make dinner, kiss my husband goodbye, and have another long night. Tomorrow, I am off but will begin a long day of hopefully finishing my move in one more day. (Lord please let me finish quickly!) However, I would not trade this for the world!
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