Yesterday I was unable to write a blog post because I was too busy having a meltdown. I try to schedule one in at least every four months.

I’m a woman… this is perfectly normal. If we were a little further back in history I’m pretty sure I would have been diagnosed with hysteria. “During the 19th century women considered to be suffering from it exhibited a wide array of symptoms including faintness, nervousness, sexual desire, insomnia, fluid retention, heaviness in abdomen, muscle spasm, shortness of breath, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, and a tendency to cause trouble.” True story, Wikipedia said so.

A little contradictory isn’t it?

However, after looking at that list I’m pretty sure I exhibit at least one of those symptoms on any given day.

Fun fact… the vibrator was invented in an attempt to cure hysteria. Whoa! I know, that totally came out of nowhere.

I learned this little tidbit in my Feminist Thought class in college. This fact alone was the reason I found myself sitting in the public library surrounded by books with titles like “The Joy of Self Love”. Every time someone walked by I wanted to clarify that I was indeed writing an important paper and I was strictly doing academic research. But I kept my mouth shut knowing that nobody would believe me anyway… I’m tempted to post my paper for proof.

Anyway, my meltdown was triggered by severe sleep deprivation. I had gone two weeks sleeping in spurts because Penelope’s teeth were coming in or her tummy was hurting her. Brent has been sick too so I couldn’t tag him in on the action.

The final straw came the other night when I fell asleep with my contacts in. During Penelope’s eleven o’clock wake up I peeled them off of my eyeballs and proceeded to wake up on the hour every hour until 2:30, when my brain just decided to forget the whole sleeping business. I laid there until Penelope cried again at 3:30 and I just stayed up.

I felt great until Penelope refused to take her morning nap. I was really hoping to catch up on some z’s during this nap time. So when she decided this just wasn’t going to happen I pretty much unraveled and by unraveled I mean that I cried like a baby.

I was just. So. Tired.

I couldn’t handle it anymore. Brent took over even though he still wasn’t feeling all that great. At this point I was too tired to sleep I just sat down and watched TV in a zombie state. I couldn’t even focus on what I was watching because my eyeballs still hurt from accidentally sleeping in my contacts.

That night I went to bed at 7:30 and Brent took over for morning duty and let me sleep in until 8. I don’t think I’ve done that since Penelope was born. It was exactly what I needed.

When I woke up today and realised that it is Penelope’s 11 month birthday. I always take a picture of her each month next to the same sock monkey to chart her growth…

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I can’t believe in a month the first year is over. Just looking through these photos I can see just how fast she is growing. Since Bridget is already 10 I know that this time is fleeting.

I’m a little tired and I’ve got a weird twitchy eye but I wouldn’t trade it for anything… hysteria and all.