Yaaaawwwwn . . . .

Hmmmmm . . . ? What . . . . ? Oh. (Yawn)

I've gone beyond the point of being tired. When I'm merely tired, I still hear Kate and wake up during the night. It may take a minute, but I hear her. The past few nights, her crying incorporated itself into my dreams before I managed to wake up. I'd hear her crying and I'd dream about it before realizing it was a dream and my daughter really was awake.

Last night, I didn't wake up at all. I have a vague memory of dreaming about crying. I don't remember hearing her. I don't remember my husband getting up to feed her. I don't remember his coming back to bed. I slept through it all. The four months of minimal night time sleep and the eight months of multiple night time wakings while I was pregnant have caught up with me: I am exhausted.

I now fall asleep while pumping on the couch on a regular basis. I look forward to my morning cup of coffee (and I'm a tea drinker). Her bed time routine makes me sleepy. I woke up this morning before the alarm thinking it must be later than it was and that I might be late for work if I didn't check the time, and then I thought I don't care and fell back asleep.

Truly, how to people with more than one child manage, especially when their children are close in age? My aunt had four kids and became a stay at home mom once the second was born. How on earth did she do it? She has all my respect. My mom, too: a working, single mother with two kids less than two years apart. How?

I know I'll miss this when she's sleeping through the night and, when she's a teenager, sleeping through the morning, too. Right now, that sounds like Heaven.

I love our chubby cheeked cherub. I wish I were more awake to appreciate this stage.