Ignite sleepless nights with comfort and love, with a lullaby glo-worm sent from above...
Because when you're going crazy with Brycillius Interruptus -- an actual viral infection that affects parents of babies 6-12 months old who are teething, going through all sorts of crazy developmental brain activities, eating everything because it's new and tasty, battling a snot-nosed cold (that we of course are all sharing), tooting, slobbering and crying -- your skies become heavy and dark.
The first time around with Beatrice was tough at times, but with the first one it's all new to us as well, and there wasn't another one under the roof.
However, ever since Bryce, we've been scratching our heads wondering -- Wait, did that happen with Bea, too? Well, did it?
Bycillius Interruptus sends rain clouds though the neocortex that erupt and wash away memories to the deep blue sea of emotional discord and complete breakdowns. It's bad enough that we constantly reconstruct memories over time, but when you're really friggin' tired (just ask the Mama), you forget you're...
"I'm sorry; don't touch me."
The grand Daddy experiment started this week with me taking over at night with Bryce so Mama could get some decent sleep, because long-term total sleep deprivation has caused death in lab animals, and Mama's done it for weeks now. Not something Mama's (or Daddies) want to hear when they're just trying to take care of their babies...
So the past few nights I've cared for and coddled my little Bryce bugger, and even with me now suffering from a little sleeplessness, there are moments with her, just like with Bea, that are etched in my timeless mind's eye, where no amount of stormy weather will ever wash them away.
Like my baby resting against me on the bed while eating the face of a lullaby glo-worm doll, as she turns to me and smiles, snot dangling from her nose.
The cure-all of Brycillius Interruptus is just a little love and patience.
And sleeping separately in the soundproof garage guest room.