Teething + clingy stage = kill me now.

Dear God:

So, I know your plate is pretty, uh, stacked these days. What with tornado outbreaks, earthquakes, nuclear near-disasters as a result of the aforementioned earthquakes, trying to get Republicans and Democrats to either kill each other (and end the misery) or behave, the economy, gas prices (could we arrange some relief there before the July 4th holiday? Just curious…), Lindsey Lohan’s ongoing quest for feigned sobriety (cause I think we both know the truth), crazed genocidal foreign dictators (and the impotence of NATO), world hunger, population overgrowth (sorry in advance for my contribution to that, but I’m totally going for a few more kids), Lady Gaga, and a plethora of other problems to tackle – you know, you’re swamped. I get that. I really, really do.

But if you could, would you please show up at some point pretty soon in the small space of my eight-month-old’s crib and put this screaming banshee to sleep for awhile? I have been praying for patience, strength, and endurance – because this is harder than any half marathon I ever ran. It is certainly more difficult than labor was, thanks to the amazing epidural that the angel we both know was just posing as an anesthesiologist provided. I pray – I pray for help with this all the time, all the while knowing that it is a really, really stupid thing to pray for. But I figure it can’t hurt to ask. What the heck IS this?! Is it a growth spurt? Is it just a massive, epic “case of the ass?” Is it retribution for all the hell I put my parents through (and my older sister, the neighbors, my piano instructor, my dance teacher, the orchestra leader, my camp counselors, other extended family, my Sunday school teachers, and basically any other teacher from three-year-old preschool up until…senior year of college? Eh?) Fair enough.

But my kid needs to sleep. I need him to sleep. And also, I need to get to a place of understanding and patience that allows me to not want to stab other people in the eye when they discuss their child’s completely predictable nap schedule (If I have to sit and smile through someone discussing how Junior goes down for his nap at exactly 9:42 am and 2:48 pm just one more time, I may pull a Britney).

So, if you could arrange just SOME sleep – like, one good nap each day, and maybe half a night without this child waking up, screaming, and making that pitiful face that absolutely tears me up…well, it would be beyond appreciated.

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