Fatigue is mean.

I'm so tired.  SO tired.  I'm one of those people who needs at least 8 hours.  8.5  is good.  9 is perfect. 7 is abhorrent.  6 is downright evil.  I think I had close to 5 last night.  I went to bed at 11 p.m. and got out of bed around 6 a.m.  That would seemingly put me at about 7 hours, sounds merely abhorrent, right?  Well, hold on.  I was woken up at least 9 times by one child or the other crawling into our bed and/or  kicking me, pushing me, crying or screaming.  Then, add in: Brad's snoring, having to pee, Brad's initial 4:30 a.m.alarm, Brad's "decide-to-sleep-in-an-hour-longer" 5:30 a.m. alarm, Koko needing to be let out, the computer somehow coming on and lighting up the room, the paperboy revving up our dead end street and, I could keep going here.  I assure you. See. sometimes I can fall back asleep right away after being woken, and 99.9% of the time, I can't.  Ok.  I'm going a little overboard.  99.8% of the time I can not fall back asleep within, say, 15 minutes.  And every once in a while I can't fall back asleep at all and I need to take a sleep aid. Last night I should have taken the sleep aid, but it was too late for consideration (or too early, depending on how you view 4:30 a.m) and anyway, I hate having to take a drug to sleep- even if it is only once in a while. Let's also take into account my lovely hormones and "monthly cycle" as they seem do seem to play a role in my insomnia.  And, the fact that I have been ultra-sensitive lately due to that unsettling reality I have vaguely alluded to for several nights now. A friend  of mine who is a mom, once said to me that the fatigue of parents is an oversight on the list of certifiable mental illnesses.  I'm not sure I would go that far, perhaps because I have only two children and she has three.   I would agree though, that deep fatigue makes for bad social graces.  It does not wax attractive on a parent who is sincerely trying her best to raise children in a loving, fun, caring fashion.  I am almost always loving, but today I was only moderately caring.  Fun?  Not.   Just ask my four year old who spent most of the day asking her vegetative-state mom to play with her. Suffice to say, there will be no photo today.