A Sick Baby

It started with a snort. Last night. Tonight she sniffles and gags. And doesn’t sleep. Wa-wa-waaahhhhhh!!! I pick her up. She arches her back. She struggles. Comfort. It’s all I can do. Here, try your binky! She takes it. She sucks away. Relief. But short lived. The runny nose runs some more. Wa-wa-waaahhhhhh!!! I comfort. It’s all I can do. …

The newborn

Fatigue. Cloudy. But I need to work Can’t concentrate. Can’t sleep. Nothing gets done. Anxiety. Must get work done. Late night snacks. What should I write today? Unproductive. Goodnight.


Such are the thoughts of a tired father.  As you may notice if you’re reading other posts on my website, live with a second little one around the house has caused a (hopefully temporary) lack of sleep and general life chaos. My brain fries more easily, my thoughts aren’t as sharp, and did I mention tiredness? Here’s a quick glimpse …

Not enough. Sleep.

Today’s post is brought to you by the effects of not getting enough sleep. I’m enjoying writing the occasional poem on the blog, but I also have to be honest and let you know that most of these poems are written late at night, typically with at least a little hint of sleep deprivation. Hence the recurring theme of, well, …


As my eyes fall heavy, I try to think. Nothing comes. I stare at the screen. I let my eyes close. They open again, and I know. I know I must. I must write. Write something. Anything. Today is a poem.