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To the Mom Bragging About Her Sleeping Baby

Photograph by Twenty20

Dear mom with the baby who LOVES to sleep,

I see you on Facebook, posting about your darling dear baby who sleeps like a dream. I see your Instagram pics with the hashtag "#sleepingbaby."

You show up to your moms group saying how sleep isn't an issue for your family. How your baby magically drifts off to sleep, as if you poured pixie dust on your kid's head and voilà—asleep!

You nod your head in sympathy when we, the tired moms of no sleep, tell you how our kid has been awake all night like he's pledging a fraternity. You look at our dark circles with horror as we detail the hour-on and hour-off sleep mindf*ck our babies are putting us through.

We, the tired moms. The moms who aren't getting the six, five, four, three or even two hours of consecutive sleep that other normal human beings that don't have a demanding life force squealing, crying and screaming in their ears each night have.

So, you, with your perky hairdo and decent makeup because, yes, you have taken the time to do because you are not sleep-deprived and you have the energy to wing your eyeliner and brush your hair… please, do us, the tired moms, a favor.

The tired moms with dirty hair, yoga pants, chipped nail polish, leaking t*ts and formula-stained sweatshirts who not-so-secretly hate you.

Yes, HATE you.

Are we being extreme? Not really. Not when you consider the fact that POW's are tortured with sleep deprivation.

Not when you consider the fact that sleep helps our brains grow and our bodies rest.

Our brains are shrinking at rapid rates, our bodies are not rested. We can't be nice. We can't be sunshine and kittens. We are caffeinated and explosive. We are two seconds away from showing up at the wrong home.

We, the fatigued, dark-circled, angry, trodden and defeated mothers of no sleep did not get your luck. We did not get your sleepy and easygoing baby.

We might just kill someone for an hour of sleep, if it didn't mean being awake for the rest of our lives in prison.

So, you, with the cheerleader's optimism of motherhood and the dewy face of a happy teenage girl who has just been kissed for the first time, please do us a favor—save your sleeping advice for someone who cares.

Save your exclamations of joy that, alas, your baby sleeps!

Recognize that the reality is you just got lucky! In the game of infancy, life rolled the dice and gave you an easy sleeper.

You did nothing special. You are not one of God's chosen (unless you actually are Jewish) people. You are one of the chosen people WHO MADE BABIES WHO SLEEP EASILY AND THROUGH THE NIGHT!

You are not the knower of all things "infant."

Perhaps, just maybe, you have magical breastmilk. Perhaps, you are a great hummer. Perhaps you have a soothing voice. The patience of a m*ther f%cking saint.

We, the fatigued, dark-circled, angry, trodden and defeated mothers of no sleep did not get your luck. We did not get your sleepy and easygoing baby.

And, quite honestly, we would like it if you would pipe down over there, Little Miss Sunshine, so we might get the satisfaction of thinking that all babies don't sleep and that our fate wasn't the hand of crap luck, but simply, just life.

Signed,

Exhausted Mothers Everywhere

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