Fucking Sleep Regression

We are in the midst of a fucking sleep regression.  But first, a note about language.  I am a real person, and when I get frustrated, I like to swear.  It's how I talk.  It's how real people talk.  I bet you're a real person, and I bet when your baby goes through a sleep regression, you're gonna feel like cussing up a fucking storm, because not much I've experienced has sucked as much as fucking sleep regression.

OK, now that I got that out of my system, I can settle down a little.  I think I mentioned before that of the myriad ways parenting has to make you feel like a naive idiot, sleep is what's made me feel like the biggest boner.  The Baby has been good compared to most, but still.  Sleep is our white whale (yours too I bet).  What we're struggling with now is that she's not quite 3 1/2 months old, so she's old enough to have had some good stretches where she was sleeping 6 or 7 hours at once, but not so old that we can expect that or do anything to try to influence her.  No matter your opinion on sleep training, it seems most experts don't recommend it until 4-5 months.  So right now, we put her down at night, pray to every god there is that she'll stay down for at least a few hours, and then close our eyes.  Note that we do not go to sleep.  Sleep for parents at this stage is too fucking scary, because if you allow yourself to sleep, you make yourself emotionally vulnerable.  It's so much less demoralizing to have to go back to soothe a baby before you've gone to sleep than after.  So I distract myself with everything.  New magazine?  Sure, I'll flip through it quick, but then it's lights out.  Well, that didn't really take that long, and I'm not even really tired, so I'll check the ol' Facebooks for the eleven billionth fucking time today, just to make sure I've scanned all the headlines so I can get myself good and worked up over some political bullshit.  And now it's almost midnight and the little shit has actually stayed asleep and I've screwed myself out of an hour or two of what could've been good sleep.

Or not, as is more often the case in the last week.  Even now, it's 11:09 am and I just checked the monitor and the timer on my phone.  Eyes still closed, timer says 17 minutes, so given her usual 30 minute cat nap, I should have another 10 minutes to update this blog that I vowed I would update daily so I would feel my life had purpose...