OSHA for me, please

I need my own personal Occupational Safety and Health Administration. Shoot, all us moms need our own OSHA. Maybe a MOSHA. Not to exclude all you stay-at-home dads...I guess we could add a P for Parents, make it POSHA...except that I am feeling as far away from posh as you could ever get. All I think about is Posh Spice with her perfect hair, skin, and body, and meanwhile I have to admit that I gave the underwear I'm wearing today the sniff test after I picked it up off the floor. I'd bet a lot of money that I don't have that Posh Spice never does that.

Anyways, I totally digress. What I mean to write about today is sleep deprivation.

'Yah, yah, Jess, we KNOW you're tired. Shut up already.' I hear ya. Trust me, I'm tired of hearing it from myself. However, I am currently obsessed with sleep, or rather the concept of sleep, and I feel compelled to write about it. Only a little bit, I promise.

Let me preface this first by saying that I have the best hubby in the world. None of what I'm about to say is aimed at him in any way...although I will give him credit for sparking today's line of thought.

I reached my breaking point yesterday. By that point, I had gone 4 days with 2 nights of ZERO sleep. I had a cold that rendered breathing a chore. I was also supposed to be preparing to teach aerobics classes next week, requiring that I come up with and PRACTICE close to 2 hours of choreography....while I couldn't breathe...and could barely see through my sleepy haze. Add Aunt Flo on her way, too, while you're at it. I gave Chris an ultimatum of sorts: Switch nighttime baby duty responsibilities for a week or else deal with a less-than-happy me. He agreed to my demands. Starting last night, he will now spend 5 nights with Phoebe while I deal with only 2. I got about 6 hours of continuous sleep last night. That's more in one night than I truly believe I got all last week.

However, the night did not start out smoothly. Close to 11 p.m., Phoebe wouldn't stop crying. Chris wanted to throw my nighttime feeding weaning plan out the window 'cause, as he put it, he had to work the next day. My response: So do I. His comeback: Well, yah, but I can get fired from MY job.

Ahhhhh. There it is.

He's right. Us stay-at-home parents can't be fired. We can make as many mistakes as we want, but there is no performance review at the end of the day.

Keep this in mind, though.

I drive my children somewhere almost every day. I get behind the wheel and operate a mini bulldozer on wheels. I also find myself checking the rear-view mirror in panic to see what the car behind me is doing, 'cause I figure if he's still close behind me, then the light I just went through but didn't really "see" must have been green. Talk to Raina and she'll tell you about the time last week when I forgot to fasten her carseat seat belt. It was as I was backing up that I heard her yell "Va-Va! You forgot my click!!!"

I cook something for my children almost every day. I use fire to do so. Last week, I made Raina pancakes for lunch. Three hours later, as I was trying to pick up the kitchen before bringing the hubby home, I found the gas burner still on underneath the pancake pan.

I carry my baby every day. We live in a two-story house. While moving Phoebe from her bedroom to the livingroom yesterday morning, I felt my legs go weak and I stumbled down the first 2 steps. I had to stop and sit on the landing until I felt my head clear.

I suggested to Chris over the weekend that he take Raina to the zoo. He declined, saying that we just went the week before. Huh? Yah. It turns out that ALL of us went to the zoo together last week during Chris' vacation. I don't remember that. I actually had to go back through my facebook status updates to confirm....and yes, we did go.

And in a way, it's that last one that scares me the most, the memory aspect of it. I'm sure that day at the zoo was a good day, with quality family moments. How many of those moments have I already forgotten? How many more will be lost to me? We can get a new car after I crash the one we have. We can buy a new house after I burn ours down. We can be healed by medical science after I drop everyone down the stairs. What can be done for all the memories that are gone?

So, yah, I have job security. But safety and health? For myself and children? I'm not too sure about that...