No Sleep for Daddy

Sleep deprivation is not a stranger to students. Heck it’s a full night’s rest that we see once in a full blue moon. But turns out new parents suffer a lot more than we do when we break our skulls over the exams. So without any more dillydallying let me introduce our latest guest author, Matty Cox, who has written a post along these lines (since he just went through the sleep-deprivation phase of raising a young). Continue Matty…

Severe sleep deprivation can make you do crazy things. It can make you forget to look up for approaching traffic before stepping out onto a busy street. It can make you pour orange juice all over your pancakes and syrup down your throat. It can make you put both contact lenses in one eye while squeezing hair gel onto your tooth brush.

An abundant lack of sleep basically turns me into a George W. Bush clone. Sure I’m still sociable and happy, but I stumble on words or simply invent brand new ones as I go. I may also lose my train of thought halfway through a sentence, much like a six year old with full-blown attention deficit disorder.

Now I’ve been sleep deprived plenty of times throughout my life. It’s usually been my own fault, as I’ve always had a tendency to stay up too late. And there were all the parties – mostly when I was a little younger – where I would stay up to the wee hours of the morning after having guzzled a beer or ten too many. Then I would pass out for a couple of hours, arise, and attempt to make it through the next day without looking like I dug myself out of a grave.

Needless to say, I thought I had experienced the worse that sleep deprivation had to offer. To say I was wrong would be an understatement. I had never before felt the wrath of true exhaustion until my son was born.

The moment my little guy entered the world, my wife and I had already been awake for a day and a half. It was another half a day until we got our first flirt with slumber – a brief nap before the hungry little man was ready for another snack.

In my naïve mind, I thought we’d get home the next day and catch up on sleep. I’m a fool. I could not have been more mistaken.

Fast forward months into the future and I still haven’t tasted anything near to a full night’s sleep. I often walk around feeling like an extra from The Walking Dead. I wake up to a fussing baby boy at least a couple times a night, more if he feels so inclined. It’s a tired that only a parent can understand and appreciate. It’s a beast onto its own.

Once my little guy has exhausted his mother to a point where I could drop a bucket of ice water on her face without even fazing her, I get up to tend to his hollering, dragging my feet and rubbing my eyes in a yawning stupor of fatigue.

It’s a foggy, somnolent brain courtesy of my handsome little boy. But I love him, so I can’t hold it against him. Hell, it’s not his fault. I can’t get enough of his mom’s boobs either.

About the Author:-

In his own mind, Matty Cox is the greatest writer of our time. Incredibly handsome, yet humble, this self-proclaimed genius wants nothing more than to make the world laugh. A published author and now blogger, his posts aim to thrust his own humorous perspectives on everyday observations and occurrences. Follow his blog at provocativepenman.blogspot.com and check out his other work at mattycox.com.

P.S. I am sorry for not turning up for almost a month now but I have my exams going on (yup, not yet done with the monster). So enjoy these guest posts while I break my head studying and I promise to come back with something good. 

-Ria

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