Today our apartment is filling up with boxes, which are in turn being filled with books, cd's and other household miscellany. So it seems that this move is really happening, and not just the bad dream I've been waiting to wake up from.
We're going to be out of here in a week and a half. That seems completely insane. I have totally removed myself from the process, warning Nate that I won't be able to help because all I have time for in my day is taking care of this baby. I think the distance I'm putting between myself and the work of moving is as much about emotional survival as anything else, though.
I know you're probably all tired of hearing me bitch about the situation, and about the move specifically. I'll try to keep it to a minimum today. Suffice it to say that moving from this apartment, this neighborhood, this city is one of the hardest things I have ever faced. When we first started talking about the possibility of moving, I was sure it wouldn't really happen. Then, when it looked like it was becoming a reality, I cried and cried in horror and disbelief. This is an unusual role for me... I don't think of myself as a negative person. Additionally, under normal circumstances I would fancy myself flexible, adaptable, practical, and downright optimistic. But, this time, in this situation, I just can't seem to get to a positive place, try as I might.
Nate thinks that sleep deprivation is magnifying my emotions about the move. I hope he is right. Otherwise I am a whiny brat who can't put her family's well-being above her desire to live on a pretty street in an apartment I love. Those things are so superficial; I know that. Taking care of our family should be my top priority. Still, I worked so hard on this place, thinking we would be here for years, until we could afford to buy a place here in the city. Did I mention that, in addition to being really sad about the move, I also feel hugely guilty for being so sad? It's just a fucking apartment, Laura. Get over it! I know that's what you want to say to me, and I would say it to myself, except I'm too busy crying. Again.
Enough about that!
Today marks 3 weeks in the life of Theo. We are half-way to the 6 week point. According to our sleep guru Dr. Weissbluth, 6 weeks is a magical landmark for most babies. At 6 weeks, he says, 80% of babies start sleeping longer at night and going to bed earlier at night, too. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to that change. Theo is a good baby; he's not exceptionally fussy. Usually during the night he goes right back to sleep after a feeding. Still, he wakes up every 3 hours to eat, like clockwork, during the night. He'll sometimes go for longer between a feed, but only during the day. According to the good doctor, that will change in three weeks. Yes. Bring on the extended nighttime sleep.
In the same book, I also learned how sleep deprivation affects adults. Studies have shown that adults who are subjected to a constant amount of sleep deprivation do not adjust to the lack of sleep over time. Instead, the affects of the sleep deprivation on their bodies accumulate and worsen as time goes on. Side-effects include headaches, gastrointestinal problems, stress, emotional instability, lack of concentration, forgetfulness, and daytime sleepiness. Mmm-hmm. I'm feeling all of that. I totally understand how sleep deprivation is a form of torture. I'm living in my own personal Gitmo. Was that joke very inappropriate? It's not my fault. Remember, I'm sleep deprived and therefore not responsible for anything I write here.