I guess I understood from an intellectual standpoint, but it does not cease to amaze me the amount of time The Wife and I spend discussing sleeping and pooping. (Or, rather, the lack of the former and the excess of the latter.) I never really emotionally grasped what it was like to share the random sleep patterns of a newborn.
That's not to say that I'm not getting sleep; I am. I'm getting around six to eight hours per day, depending on the day of the week. It's just not all at once. I sleep from 12 or 1 until 6:30, with a break in the middle for a feeding or two. I sleep an hour or so in the early morning, and hopefully another hour, either in the late morning or early afternoon. This way, I get my usual allotment of sleep, more or less.
Thank God for coffee, right? Except that the energy has to come from somewhere; caffeine doesn't magically conjure energy from the ether. If you don't have the sleep, over a long enough time period, then caffeine ceases to provide energy and just provides tension and anxiety. I've had two cups of coffee this week, because I way overdosed at the end of last week (which was particularly bad - sixteen hour days combined with baby at night. Thank God for The Wife, who really stepped up big time to help me get through a difficult, two-competition weekend).
It's brutal. It truly is a zombifying effect - and I know my zombies, let me tell have, having seen all of the "...of the Dead" movies, all of the Resident Evil movies, 28 Days & 28 Weeks Later, and read dozens of zombie comics. And, don't forget "The Re-Animator" and other cinematic classics. The Wife and I spend large chunks of the day kind of drifting around our teaching responsibilities. I haven't provided adequate lesson plans for my rehearsals since The Boy was born.
It's worth it, though.
Tonight, The Wife put him down around 8:15. He was in his crib at the usual angle... head at 9 o'clock, feet at 3 o'clock, on his back. When I got home, his head was at 3 o'clock, his feet at 9 o'clock, and he was on his left side. (Like, all the way on his side. He swings himself into position... kind of cool to see.) It'll be interesting to see where and how he ends up next. Usually, by the end of the night, he's got both feet through the crib slats.
He hasn't gotten his arms strung through there in a little while. A few weeks ago, it was not uncommon to come to get him, only to find his legs and arms fed through four different slat openings. We've discussed crib bumpers, but we're afraid of the SIDS thing.