The Land of nod

The Land of Nod and I have parted ways.
Not willingly.
Not happily.
Because Punk is refusing to sleep.
I have returned to the life of a mom with a newborn.
Filling up sippie cups, changing dirty diapers, walking the floors as she cries for no reason I can discern.
Last night it was midnight before she collapsed.
But she woke several times during the night, crying, "MAMA!" until I went in to check.
I'm exhausted. She was still sleeping when I left this morning.
She is cutting her last two teeth, but doesn't seem to be bothered by them.
She is going through a growth spurt, but i made sure her belly was full before bed.
She is being a royal bratling.
And that's where we are stuck.
I have let her cry. She woke up her brothers.
I have brought her to my bed, but she wants to play.
I have put her in her own bed. She shrieks worse than any banshee.
There is no happiness in our house at bedtime.
And you'd think, after three children, I'd be used to no sleep. But no, I'm spoiled. I'd like at least two hours of uninterrupted sleep a night.
I'm greedy that way.
But until Punk realizes nighttime is not any fun, I'll be walking the halls and praying to Inkin, Blinkin, and Nod nightly.
That damned Sandman better show up pretty quick too.
He'd better bring me some dreams of a sleeping, happy child.
Before I go postal.
And attach some beach.
The headline would read, "Crazed mother attacks beach: screams at sand, 'All I wanted some a few hours of sleep!'"