Dear John

It is very early... and I went to bed very late. The problem is that I also had more caffeine than usual yesterday, so I didn't sleep. Neither did W, who is still nursing and co-sleeping. I am not sure if my caffeine excess affected him, or just my general fidgeting kept him from sleeping well. I feel like I hardly slept at all. In the seven hours I spent in bed, I was awake at least 12 distinct times. I know caffeine does this to me. I'm very sensitive to caffeine, and I know in excess it not only makes me jittery and agitated, it triggers terrible insomnia and panic attacks.

But I really really love Coke*. Really. Many many mornings in my early days of mommahood, my breakfast consisted of a can of cola and a handful of chocolate chips. I have been known, on a bad day, to drink ten cans of the stuff. Few things sound more appealing to me than an icy cold, carbonated beverage. But I'm realizing that few things sound worse to me than spending seven hours in bed being more awake than asleep, then needing to get up and face the day with three kids, a husband, two dogs, a fish, a never ending pile of laundry, dishes that didn't get done last night, paperwork that must be done for tomorrow, a birthday party to attend, and overzealous plans of finishing a garage clean out project.

So I am going to have to concede that my cola and I can no longer be even the most casual of aquaintences. This is going to be like a bad breakup... the love affair is over, and no we cannot "just be friends". I need a clean break. I'm going to have to be strong, resisting the urge to recollect fondly on those happy times we shared, me and my cola. I will not be swayed by tempts of just one more sip, just to say good bye. I will have to remind myself that cola is no good for me, I deserve better than sleepless nights, and jittery agitation. No matter how much I beg and plead, I am not going to be able to change my cola's double-crossing ways, luring me in with promises of icy cold refreshment and then, once we're through, leaving me with nothing more than an empty can and a racing heart. Ohhh... the tears, the heartache, the midnight phone calls...


and all while trying to convince my sleep deprived system that it is an hour later than it really is. Blech!

*all names may have been changed in order to allow the object of my obsession to remain anonymous