I have spent pretty much every single night this semester working on something. I have to prepare my lectures, which in the beginning were extremely tedious because not only did I have to make slides for class, I had to learn the material too. So I had to care for two children and a newborn all day (and by care for I mean lock all the exterior doors then sit amid the chaos with coffee in hand), then sit down after bedtime to do some really thrilling reading about ROCKS. OMG those freaking rocks. They nearly killed me.
When I wasn't internalizing the intricacies of the rock cycle (YAWN), I was working on an NSF proposal, which is part of Project Keep Some Semblance of a Career Together While the Children are Young. It's due at the end of May and if I could just focus for more than twenty minutes at a time I could have a good first draft finished this week, which is important because of all the other stuff that has to happen before it can be submitted.
But James, after one glorious night about a month ago in which he slept TWELVE HOURS WITHOUT WAKING UP, now requires a team of two and several hours to go to sleep. And then he wakes up to eat around two. And SOMETIMES he goes back to bed. Sometimes he requires one of us (Ryan usually, since he (James, not Ryan) seems to view me not as a person, but as a giant walking boob) to cozy up next to him in the bed in his room for the remainder of the evening.
It's one of those things that seems like it will be temporary when it starts and then a month later you're staring down a really unworkable new normal. We went through the same thing with Wes around the same age and ultimately had to cry it out for all of our sanity. I don't want to have to do that to James, but I also don't want to burn down my house because I fell asleep cooking macaroni and cheese.
Anyway. I've got that proposal. And a lecture on Tuesday that I haven't started working on. And it's only nine o'clock. But I have to take care of three little kids all day tomorrow by myself (two of them can speak well enough to relate any nasty words I accidentally used/garage doors I accidentally bumped with the car). And I am going to bed.
Update: Ryan and I were just changing our sheets (because someone pooped in our bed this morning. Hint: not me. or Ryan.) and I asked him how far the blanket was hanging down on his side. He replied "It's even with the top of the box spring." I said "OK, mine is about an inch below that. That seems like a reasonable standard deviation." Ryan said "Haha, you say 'standard deviation' because you are a scientist! I would say 'tolerance'. Interesting." And then we had a discussion about whether tolerance is an input, decided by the engineer, or a result of a process, like standard deviation is. Six billion people on the planet and somehow we managed to find each other.