I’m not a zombie, I’m a mom

How many of you mom’s have actually said that? I’m not a zombie, I’m a mom. Or better yet, someone tells you how tired you look. I look at them and calmly say, I was up all night with my child.

People stare my way thinking the Zombie Apocalypse has begun and I must be one of the victims. When I walk from one place to the next I haven’t the energy to keep from slumping over. I even drag my feet and walk in a slow pace. I don’t bother to put on make up, so instead I have dark circles under my eyes. I’m forcing my eyes to stay open that I have this look on my face, that if I actually saw myself, I would understand why people would think I’m a zombie. “No, I’m a mom,” I say. Though people continue to stare.

Occasionally my daughter gets into these fits at night. Last night just happened to be one of them. I had only wished she picked a Friday or Saturday instead of a school day. I thought it was going to be an all nighter as she cried endlessly. I got up out of bed, checked her diaper only to find she was dry. She just wanted me to hold her. I took her back to my bed. ‘Big mistake,’ I thought to myself. ‘She would only want to stay here.’ I could only be so right! All she did was wiggle, wiggle. All I wanted to do was sleep. She’d roll over and smack me in the face, then giggle. I made the mistake of turning over, facing away from her. This only caused her to start crying uncontrollably again.

I rolled back over and hold her, saying everything was going to be okay. After several times of putting her in her bed, then back to my bed, then back to her bed again, I looked at the clock and it was after one in the morning. I fell back into bed, literally, face first into my pillows, reaching for my covers somewhat and fell asleep.

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