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There's no rest for the weary parent - ever again
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Published: October 16, 2008
You never get used to some aspects of a job. Working with college students, I never got used to them calling me Mrs. Robinson. It made me feel so old. And when blank stares met my humorous references to "The Graduate" or the Simon and Garfunkel song that bears my name, I felt even older.
The job of parenting has a huge learning curve, and I've grown accustomed to many nuances of the position: Having a constant shadow; eating a lukewarm dinner; checking closets for monsters; and finding underwear stashed behind the television. But one facet I'm still adapting to is a constant state of being tired.
Parental exhaustion begins during pregnancy, arriving during the first trimester and settling in until the days before birth. And dads are right there with us, tired of cravings, mood swings and being kicked out of bed. My son was conceived sometime in December 2001, and I've been exhausted ever since. A word of advice to pregnant women: Sleep. For goodness sake, if you do nothing else in months seven, eight and nine, just sleep. Leave the nesting duties to someone else.
You never catch up on lost sleep once your child arrives. I'm the master at finding lost toys, but I'm never going to find the hours of sleep I've lost over the past six years. Round-the-clock feedings graduate to feedings every few hours — which is certainly an improvement — but not the lights-out-until-dawn-routine I was used to before kids. And then toddlerhood brings night terrors, which send you and your husband stumbling over the dog into your child's room at 1 a.m. You've done this one too many times when the dog doesn't even flinch anymore.
Overtiredness doesn't end when school begins. In fact, it gets worse. Because now you're up before sunrise preparing to wrestle your kids from their beds. And you're still going to bed late because in between their bedtime and your bedtime is the only time for errands, housework or simply catching your breath. OK, so you think you'll catch 40 winks once the kids leave for college and get married.
Nope. Because then you're the one having night terrors about whether they are or aren't doing what they are or aren't supposed to be.
The only difference is you're stumbling over the dog to the computer and sending a "how are you?" e-mail at 1 a.m. And the dog still doesn't flinch, but it's probably because he's gotten so old.
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