Well, it's my birthday and, once again, it is shaping up to be a big bust.

I have always been a big birthday-celebrator. Over the past several years, though, I've been thwarted in my plans for my own natal day. A number of times Robert has had to spend the day working at one job or another. This year it looks like it will be no different. He was due back tomorrow afternoon but the guy covering all his stuff Friday pulled out today at the last minute and he likely won't be able to find anyone else which means he now won't be home until late Friday night (nearly two weeks since I last saw him, by the way).

I'm not excessively distraught or anything. It's gotten to a point now where it's almost humorous to sit back detachedly and see how the day will manage to end up a non-event in any given year. I am beginning to come to expect something to crop up and foil my plans so when Robert said he would be home for most of the day I took it with a healthy dose of skepticism.

I knew that a lot of people, as they age, place less importance on birthdays. However, I always thought that it was their choice. I didn't realize it might be everyone else facilitating it!

Madalyn's Open House at school is tomorrow so that (and cleaning my living room and kitchen) will be my birthday fun. I may take us all out to eat afterward. Or, I may not. In general I like solitude but there is something slightly pathetico about taking oneself to a birthday dinner which would be spent, like all other dinners, corralling unruly children and bolting my food so we can get out of there before someone breaks something.

Eh. So maybe I'm a little bummed. And jaded; don't forget jaded. Not to mention old.

This weekend I will betake myself to a fine spa in Oklahoma City for a day of beauty and relaxation.

First on the list is to hack off this disgusting, stringy excuse for hair which is currently residing on top of my head. Color will be used; highlights will be applied. I am fully aware that it is a risky move, going short, and that I may well come away looking like a pinhead. However, sacrifices must be made. It can't possibly look worse than it does now so, there you go, I'm ahead already. Nowhere to go but up.

The other treatment on the agenda is called the Rescue Remedy. It involves me in a hydrotherapy tub, receiving a foot, scalp, head, neck and shoulder massage, then moving on to a full-body massage after. When I think about it I could cry. Especially when I think about the foot massage. My feet are so sore and/or tired all the time now.

As if this wasn't fun enough for the whole family (it isn't) we are going to spend the weekend up there and hit the State Fair on Sunday and Monday. The entire focus and purpose of my fair-going experience can be summed up in four words: Bavarian-cream-filled churros (click to read about my first experience with these little slices of heaven from a deep-fryer). I guess we'll probably have to quit eating for a few minutes and hit the carnival, too. Damned kids.

Happy weekend to all!

How does she do it? And why?

Eliza went to sleep at about 8:45. It took me over an hour to get her to do so even though she'd not napped since 3 p.m. By the time I went to bed at 11:00 she'd been up at least three times. I thought I was doing so well, going to bed at a time that's pretty early for me. But she woke up as soon as I got comfortable and would not stay asleep in her crib. I would get her back to sleep with the pacifier but she'd wake up within ten or fifteen minutes. This went on till well after midnight, when I brought her into my bed. My memory is hazy after that but I think she slept a whopping hour-and-a-half and then woke up at 3:00.

It's now 4:48 and she's been awake ever since.

It's not just dozing off and then waking, either. It's complete and total wakefulness; "talking" and playing with her hands and rolling around as though it's noon and not 4 a.m. Sometimes she will grasp my arm or hand and look like she's trying to nod off but that lasts about two minutes and then she perks up again.

There is NO way to account for this. Things, ALL things, are exactly as they were last week when she was sleeping three hours at a time and only taking fifteen minutes to put to bed.

I am just so sick of this. I don't know how long I can continue to function. There is nothing I can do about it, either. I mean, just look at her pattern from last night. Going to bed earlier wouldn't even help me because she's up every thirty damned minutes.

I just want someone to tell me how it's medically possible for a five-month-old to get by on what probably equals five or six hours of sleep a night. She's going to have big, purple shadows under her eyes later on this morning and probably end up taking a three-hour nap, which is what she did yesterday. So if she's so tired then why the hell can't she sleep at night?? I simply do not understand what causes her to stay awake for hours in the middle of the night or why she can't manage more than an hour's sleep at a time. She MUST be tired. I think it's safe to say she's not some kind of superhuman who just doesn't need to sleep. So there is something that is making her behave like this. What is it, and why can't I figure it out?

I wish sleep wasn't so important. I feel like the world's biggest whiner for harping on and on about the subject. But consider that many not-so-nice military organizations have used sleep-deprivation as a means of torture and a way to "break" captives, and also consider that studies show that sleep-deprived people are as dangerous on the highway as drunk drivers. Our culture in this country looks down on the need for sleep as a weakness but the fact is it's a basic human necessity for sanity and health. That's why it's such a big deal. I'm not some spoiled, pampered princess who had a baby and is complaining about not getting nine solid hours. I am getting maybe five hours of sleep a night, if I'm lucky, and that is punctuated by wakings as often as every thirty minutes. NOT good. Right now I can barely type without reversing letters and skipping words and such. I only came out to the living room because I had no idea what else to do. Eliza wasn't crying; she was lying there playing with a blanket, so I left. It's now gone quiet in there so maybe she's gone back to sleep. I guess I should head back in. I've got a whole two hours before I have to be up to get the kids ready for school.

Insert clever parting statement here.