Not to harp on but …

My OCD can’t even deal

I’m tired.

Not just “Whew! I’m pooped!” but really, really tired. That deep-in-your-bones fuzzy head itchy eyeballs what the actual fuck tired. The tired that, unless you’ve had children or a chronic fatigue-type condition (which I’ve had … whilst wrangling a 6 month old, a 2 year old and a 5 year old … dear God, how am I still alive??), you don’t actually know what I’m talking about.

After six pretty easy-going months, Little Miss has decided to become a really shit night sleeper and I am trying desperately to figure out why and how to fix it.

On the plus side, her day naps have improved considerably …

I told NIH I was fine but perhaps that’s overstretching the truth a little, as an incident this morning may have proved.

We’ve moved to a larger place, which means we have a spare room for visitors.  It’ll be so much nicer having visitors now  in an actual house rather than three tiny rooms and an even tinier bathroom but we still suffered a of lack of bedding. The double blow-up mattress has had few complaints so far but there are times when we need to pull out the old single mattress from under our bed to accommodate more bodies.

For some visitors, a mattress on the floor is ok. It’s a pretty comfy inner spring mattress of an ample size – I’m now suspecting a King Single after this mornings’ efforts – but for others, it’s a little harder getting down and back up from that level.

Which is why we thought investing in a single bed frame and having the bed set up permanently made perfect sense. After all, Little Miss will eventually be sleeping in it … if she ever deigns to sleep again.

We ordered one of a reasonable cost and elegant design and it arrived the other day. Sweet.

I put it all together yesterday and it’s really solid and stable and looks good. Even sweeter.

After yet another disgraceful night of broken sleep, I thought I’d haul out the mattress and make it up today – even though our visitors don’t arrive until next week – so that NIH has somewhere to retreat to in the meantime when the all-night part-ay gets too much. After all, the poor guy has to go to work and act reasonably coherent whereas I stay home with a small person cares little if I’m coherent or not as long as I feed her. Sometimes I can even sneak in a nap if the planets all align.

So I dragged that cumbersome bastard out from under the bed and into the spare room. A touch more exercise than I’d prefer with so little sleep – it made my head spin a little but so far so good.

I lined it up next to the bed frame. All systems apparently are go, Houston.

Now, just to take a deep breath and lift that heavy mofo up and slide it on …

Fudge popsicles. It’s about an inch too long.

Not to be outdone, I puffed and squeezed and managed to slot it in between the header and footer … but it kinda looks like a caterpillar doing the wave. I could have cried.

I may have cried ….

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