Parenting is trying to remember what shirt you have on without looking down.
Since you don’t want to cheat, you wriggle your body to try and determine which shirt it is.
People looking at you think you’ve developed a nervous twitch.
This is no nervous twitch. You think/say a portion of that thought out loud, ‘Nervous twitch.’ Is all that comes out.
No, this is being awake most the night for three nights in a row because your two year old has croup and can’t sleep unless they are propped up. On you. And because you can hear the stridor in their breathing, you don’t care how many nights they will need your shoulder, or how many shirts you’ve mentally misplaced, or how twitchy you’ve become.