I just came through a bout of insomnia. At the beginning of my pregnancy, I was so tired that my insomnia and difficulty falling asleep grew to be distant memories. However, almost two weeks ago, insomnia slithered back into my head and, coupled with a compressed bladder, kept me from getting enough sleep, no matter how tired I grew. I couldn't even take naps. Friday, I was so exhausted, I broke into tears when I realized I was missing my birthing class because I was trying to take a nap..."trying" being the extremely operative word. Well, the crying took its toll and I was able to nap for an hour after I got over the guilt of not respecting my appointment and the realization that yes, this parenting thing is going to take a lot of effort and there is no way I can be prepared for every contingency before the birth or expect to be up to date on every parenting technique, on how I feel about issues like immunizations and if they are really safe for children, and and and...
And that night, I was back in bed, ready to sleep, at 9:30 and only lay there for an hour before being able to nod off. After two nights of 10 hours of shut-eye (not uninterrupted, mind you; remember the pregnant lady bladder thing) and one night of 8, I'm feeling almost human again.
But this weekend, I've only had the will to binge. Binge on season 4 of Dexter. All 12 episodes in two days. Binge on crocheting. Hours and hours of doing double stitches, trying to finish the blanket for my niece's baby so that I can get on with projects for Little Bean without feeling guilty for putting "me and mine" first.
And I could say I binged on spice muffins and chocolate pudding pie, but I won't because I didn't. Not really. Indulging is not bingeing.
Dexter is over, but the blanket is not finished. Back to work.
