The Attack of The Haze

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You know how that dirt-prone boy from the Peanuts cartoon strip, Pig-Pen, lives in a cloud of his own filth?  That’s how I envision myself these days.  Only instead of dirt, I live in a haze of exhaustion.

Okay, yes, dirt too.  (Thank you for pointing that out.)

I naively thought I would perk up when I finally put the baby in daycare for a few hours a day.  Now, am I more balanced?  Sure.  Happier?  I must admit:  yes.  But more well-rested…?  Ha.  If anything, the exhaustion has gotten worse.  Imagine my surprise when The Haze started showing up in pictures:

Just look at my poor children!   Obviously terrified of The Haze.

And it’s no wonder.  The Haze is responsible for making their mother act strangely.  Yes, even more so than usual.  (Again, thank you for pointing that out.)  It is not uncommon for me to be half-way to daycare when I suddenly turn around in my seat, heart pounding through my chest, because OMIGOD, DID I REMEMBER TO PUT THE BABY IN THE CAR?

Thank goodness the answer has always been YES.  So far.  But my biggest fear is leaving Drew sitting in the garage and screaming, “CURSE YOU, HAAAAAAZE!”

I also can’t tell you how many times I have been standing in line at Starbucks when I’m struck with this thought:  Uh, I should probably look down and make sure I put my boobs away after the baby’s last breastfeeding session.

I wish I could say the answer has always been YES.

You would think I would double-check such important things before leaving the house, but here is the thing about The Haze:  it makes you stupid.  I am so tired, I cannot see or think straight.  Logic and forethought and thoughtfulness… huh?  Hence the boob show in front of Starbucks’ pastry case.

All moms live in their own version of The Haze, I think, with varying amounts of cloudiness and ill effects.  My mom claims her haze didn’t lift until I graduated from college.  Which would make me cry… if only I had the energy to produce tears.

My personal haze started hatching when I was pregnant with Miss Skye (’08 – ’09) and had problems sleeping; however, it wasn’t until just lately — after almost seven months of living with a baby who only sleeps for three hours at a time — that The Haze billowed to the point of taking over my life.

I respond to texts and Tweets and Twats three days late.  I don’t return friends’ calls for months because, let’s face it, holding a conversation takes too much energy.  I have squirted face cream on my toothbrush.  And continued to brush, even after realizing, because at least my cuspids won’t get crow’s feet.  I walk all the way up to our third floor to grab my glasses, only to return downstairs without them.  Several times in a row.  And sex?  Puh-lease.  If I’m going to be doing anything in that bed, it’s sleep.  (Fun fact:  Men are never too tired to have sex.  Never.)

Even if this Haze does lift someday, I’m afraid I will have no friends or family waiting for me on the other side.  Because the only people who understand, who truly understand, are other moms — who are stuck in their own fog and unable to go grab a “Farewell, Haze!” margarita with me.

I guess I could always attract new friends by putting on another boob show at Starbucks, if need be.  The toothless man stealing their Splenda packets really seemed to take a liking to me!

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Candy

Candy Kirby is the founder of The Laughing Stork and a professional fun-maker who will never stop chasing her lifelong dream: to find the Pomeranian or porn star after whom her parents must have named her. She also used to be a staff writer for the soap opera, The Bold and the Beautiful, where she penned many scripts featuring prolonged heated stares and countless “Who’s the Daddy?” story lines. Candy lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two young kids and three rescue Persian cats who enjoy blanketing every inch of the house in kitty fur.

For more of Candy's nonsense, check out her personal Twitter, The Laughing Stork's Twitter and The Laughing Stork's Facebook page.

19 CommentsLeave a comment

    • That would be the smart thing to do, wouldn’t it? But alas…after hitting Starbucks, pumping milk and posting a couple of stories on this ol’ site, it’s already time to head back to daycare to pick up the kiddos. [CUE THE VIOLINS]

  • As one of those super-tired moms you talk about here, I can squeeze out an ‘Amen sister!’. Aaaaand I’m spent.

  • I remember me and a couple of other moms pointing out the phenomenon of whipping your head around while thinking “OMG! Where’s the baby? Did I forget him/her?” back when you were about to put Skye in daycare.

    Gotta say though, you still look really good for being exhausted. And I know you are exhausted.

    • Glad to know I’m not the only one losing my mind!

      We were taking holiday pictures that day, so I actually threw on some concealer. About as good as it gets these days. (But thank you for your kind words. I’ll take ‘em.)

  • We all have the haze. I was at a swimming pool recently and grew increasingly panicked because I couldn’t find my oldest. Eventually I found her – I was holding her.

  • our little daughter (15 months) wakes up every single night and screams for an hour or two… So today I went to work – everything was fine – I spoke with many people, attended a meeting – and two hours later I realized, that I wore my shirt indide out…

  • Long time reader (ie back from the celebrity gossip days), first time poster! Hopefully this isn’t too irrelevant to this post, but have you tried taking Drew to a Chiropractor? I’m a receptionist at one and see quite a few mothers bringing their babies in, who primarily have trouble sleeping, and often sleep through the night afterward! If you’re getting desperate, couldn’t hurt! I’m not a mother (thankfully, considering I’m only 21 and quite enjoying the free life *end gloating*), but babies often suffer from physical birth trauma which can be helped with chiropractic treatment… So long as you find a good one :)

    • Wow, thanks for sticking around all these years, Al! And not irrelevant at all — you just never know what might be bothering these babies. The past few nights have been (dare I even say it?) better, but if he reverts back to his waking-up-every-two-hours routine, I will definitely keep your suggestion in mind. Thank you.

      Enjoy your “free life” for as long as you can! (I write as the baby starts screaming at 11:46 p.m. *Sigh*)

  • It also affects single gals working the graveyard shift. My co-workers are wondering why I keep looking out the window. I couldn’t tell them it was because I keep wondering if I turned off the headlights of the car…

  • Thank you my friend for posting thing, love you!. It made me laugh, and even though I wanted to cry, like you, I have no energy to produce tears! Now maybe I should go bathe my babies, and hopefully have enough energy to bathe myself out of my never-ending haze! Thank God they are cutie pies, or I really would have lost my mind at this point, and the baby is only 4mos old!

  • Just found your blog and was attracted by the haze.
    Had this conversation with the husband tonight. After ten years of momhood, he’s STILL surprised that I would choose sleep over sex. In a heartbeat.
    He wishes I had his libido.
    Yeah, then I’d be exhausted AND frustrated.

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