What Makes the World Go 'Round

I have discovered what makes the world go 'round. One would think I would have made this discovery two years ago but I think I was too far gone to have had the wherewithal to ponder such a thing.

Most have bought into the fallacy that love makes the world go round. Hog wash. Bull hockey. Psh. Whatever. As if. Yeah, right.

Let's break down the theory that loves makes the world go around, shall we?

Remember back to the days of new love. When your new loved ones hand so much as grazed your own you felt tiny bits of tingly electricity flow up your arm. You walked around half the day with a silly grin on your face. You went through the motions at work - sure you were able to look productive but really, all of your mind's energies were focused on your new love. How incredibly perfect they were. How you were the luckiest person on the face of the earth to have met him/her. How you could not believe someone as awesome as him/her thought you were just as awesome. You were thinking, "Is my new love thinking about me right now?" "How is it that someone so incredible things I'm so incredible, too?" "Oh, and his eyes." "And her laugh." "And the way he actually likes my cat?!" Unreal!

Does that above drivel sound like someone capable of making the earth revolve?

No!

The earth revolves in SPITE of them.

So, just what does make the earth go round?

Sleep.

Yes. Sleep.

It never ceases to amaze me how much I can get done in one day when I am well rested. Conversely, it amazes me how little I can do when I'm an exhausted heap.

The other night Ryan and I were sitting on the couch, half watching the Olympics, half watching Gavin play, half playing with Gavin. Don't get on my case about my math of halves - remember, tired people do not contribute (well) to the order of operations. Ryan said something to me and I replied, "Eh."

To which he replied, "Eh. Yeah. Me, too."

If only we had a crystal ball when we were newly in love to look into the future to see how thrilling our lives as new parents would be. Communicating like cavemen on the couch.

"Even my jaws are tired," I slurred. "I suppose that's good for a diet." I was so tired I couldn't even laugh at my own joke. The day I can not cackle at my own joke is a tired one.

It has been years since I've been well rested. The days of rest hearken back to my childless days. Days when I had no idea that I needed to cherish the sleep I was able to get. Gavin started sleeping through the night right about the time I got pregnant which meant Theo started keeping me awake long before he ever exited my womb. Now I get to look at the bundle of cuteness that is waking me at all hours of the night. And I do mean all hours. Pick one. He's up - or will be shortly.

Something happens between one child and two, though. If they both nap at the same time I may try to lay down with them but chances are there is a lot to be done. Namely laundry. Oh, how I hate thee, Laundry! It never ends! NEVER!

Last night when I tried to sneak into bed Theo woke up. I put my hands under him to reposition him so I could nurse him in the bed. He was wet. Stupid Earth's Best diaper came off on one side which led to diaper failure. Which led to wet jammies, wet sleep sack, wet sheet, wet incontinence pad. At least I had the pad on the bed. But this was the 3rd sheet change this week. I really dislike changing sheets in the middle of the night. Really. Although it is nice when I finally crawl into bed to have a clean sheet. I didn't care enough to change the still clean top sheet to have them matching. It won't be too long before each component (bottom sheet, top sheet and two pillow cases) is from a different set.

So now I have even more clothes to sort, wash, dry, fold and take care of. Even with all of this I still managed to go through a laundry basket of stuff (papers, miscellaneous toys, wipes, bills, gifts) that was taking up permanent residence on top of the dog's kennel and sort it all on the table. Now most of it is taken care of. It feels good to only see a quarter of the mess that was there yesterday. Next on the list is to tackle the mantle. Then the hall closet. Then my dresser top. Then my dresser innards. Then the basement.

Then I think it will be time to start over with a basket full of miscellaneous stuff that is sitting on the dog's kennel. And one day, far far from now, I will be rested and will be able to contribute to the world in ways greater than sorting little papers and mismatched socks.