It may have made more sense to start on Jan 1st, but I didn’t get my ass in gear in time. I want to write something – even if it’s just a brief, passing thought or idea, every day, for 30 days. Writing and sharing my thoughts and experiences with this blogging community has been so cathartic for me over these last couple of years, and I’d like to stay on top of my writing-self-care, rather than only writing when something is extremely pent up or vent-worthy. So here goes.
I managed to submit another draft of my dissertation proposal to my advisor before Christmas, and he sent me his feedback this morning. We have a meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m cramming to at least READ his feedback, even though I won’t have time to address much of it. I’m tired again, and it’s not easy going again. The only way I got that proposal draft in before the holidays was thanks to that week or so of good sleep. Sleep… sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. This is the title of my would-be memoir. It is the only thing I think about, the only thing I long for.
On a related note, I don’t want to keep wishing for my toddler to grow up, but I find myself getting through these tough, sleepless nights with the hopeful thought of eventually leaving toddlerhood in the dust. But toddlerhood is so incredibly awesome to witness, and I hate that I’m wishing it away. Sleep.
Also, Avery is having night terrors. Because her sleep-challenges just weren’t complete without a cherry on top. Night terrors are so hard to watch, but you can’t do much more than watch. If we approach her she attacks us. Last night she screamed the saddest, most terrified scream for 45 minutes while my wife sat next to her and calmly repeated “it’s ok Avery, it’s me, go to sleep.” She is, of course, asleep through her night terrors, but she actually gets out of bed and runs around in her room like she’s running away from something. And then, as suddenly as it started, she slumps over and starts snoring peacefully.
Alright, enough griping. Back to work. Until tomorrow…