The insomniac texts, 1st entry

Sept 5th, 3:27 am.

I am currently on my 43rd hour of not sleeping since bringing our newborn children home from the hospital. Tired...so tired. The sounds of my children squeaking and squawking fill the air; they are incessant. Helpless though they may be, their whimpering has kept me awake for longer than my mind can bare. Unsure of what is reality and what is merely a sleep deprived hallucination, I drift to the kitchen stopping only to say hello to the leprechaun burying his treasures beneath the tile in our hallway. As I open the refrigerator, a light bulb goes off in my head. I make a note so I won't forget my brilliant idea later, "solar powered cow" I scribble on the notepad magnetically clinging to our fridge. Upon further review, I'm unsure what this means, but assume I will figure it out tomorrow.

Right now I need something...but what? Fruit Loops! Toucan Sam stares at me from the back of the cereal box, "Do this cross word puzzle" he beckons me. I stare at his first clue, "A _____ a day keeps the Dr. away" 5 letters. I should know this. It's there on the outer rim of my consciousness... but I cannot recall it from the nether regions of my memory.

Tired...so tired.

The cereal loving cartoon Bird is smiling, his multi-colored beak is mocking me. His lifeless eyes seem to speak to me saying, "Bawk! I can sleep whenever I want to, stupid human. Bawk!".

"You will pay for this Toucan! I will empty this box in a days time!" I exclaim aloud. Too loud. The children stir in their sleep, I fear I may have awoken them and further delayed my chances of ever falling asleep.

I hold my breath and dare not move for fear of making a sound and waking the children fully. "Lub dub, lub dub", I can hear my heart pounding in my head. Can the children hear it as well? Every sound in the house is amplified. Please God don't let them wake up yet, I need to sleep, I will do anything, please!

Tired...so tired.

The children begin to stir. "Blast!" I shout under my breath. I run to their bed side, and begin to sing Brahms lullaby to them. Unsure of the actual words, I make them up as I go. "Go to sleep, Go to sleep, Go to sleep little babies. You are sleepy, freaking sleepy, Toucan Sam is a jerk." Slowly the children's breathing settles, they shift ever so slightly and fall back asleep. Exhaling stealthily, I lay my head on the floor and sing Brahms lullaby to myself.

Tired...so tired. Drowsily the room around me begins to fade. Miraculously, I slip away into REM sleep. I dream of hunting the Toucan with my new found friend the leprechaun. I am awoken a mere three and a half minutes later to the piercing shrieks of my kids crying for food. Noooooooooo!!!

Tired...so tired.