So three weeks into a period of limited sleep has rendered me into a pitiful and slightly deranged state that swings manically from normal to crazed in a Jekyll and Hyde sort of way. This split personality coincides with the setting of the sun; by day I can just about function in a loving mother sort of way….slightly frazzled but still patient and loving, come the hours of bedtime and I lose my shit….completely.
In the past few weeks I have used my annual quota of the f word during the twilight hours, anything from “for fuck sake” to “go to fucking sleep” and just the general “fuck off”. It won’t surprise me if before too long my eldest begins to curse the world with such venomous words when all doesn’t go his way, not his fault when after finally getting the littlest one down early this morning the eldest walks in to be greeted by a demonic looking mummy who screeches “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!!!” I know I know, I won’t be getting any awards for mummy of year with a start to the day like that but believe me when I say I think I’ve reached the edge…the edge of sanity, the edge of patience….the edge of my poor tired soul (ok a little dramatic but these are dark times, it deserves a little theatrical drama).
So why the obscenities???
The littlest one is going through a rough time at the moment and is punishing his loving parents for it. (Don’t know why as all I’ve done is love the little lump). We’ve had the snottiest of colds with an asthmatic like cough which kept us all awake through to the emergence of the first little snaggle tooth. …promptly followed by the second one and now it seems we are in some sort of sleep regression phase like thing whereby sleep is not allowed…at all!!
My wonderfully predictable little munchkin (see below)
would ordinarily have a morning snooze of anything upto one and half hours, two if I was lucky, wake for a little play, have some lunch and then go down with his brother for his afternoon nap….more recently however I have a been found physically restraining a wild child who’s limbs have no control and thrusting a boob into his mouth in a vain attempt to lure him into a dream like state, on many occasions I lost the battle with a gouged eye or two and fish hook here and there. Knowing that sleep is desperately needed I have then attempted “the jiggle” this consists of a semi squat like bounce but with fast repetition with the occasionally sway thrown in, if all that has failed I simply put him in bed and stand outside the room whilst he rolls around and wails for long enough so that he eventually gives in to the boob. I’m usually at the point of either crying on the other side of the door muttering “just go to fucking sleep” or raiding the fridge for the emergency large bar of Galaxy chocolate to give me a much required energy boost and to dull the pain of the war that I am fighting (need some more Galaxy all reserves have no been munched).
That is just during the day when it comes to the night OH.MY.GOD that’s a whole other barrel of shite to deal with. Every 45 minutes to an hour we get the tell tale wail and snufflings of a small person who has rolled themselves over and wriggled into the corner of the bed, rather than sensibly rolling back over and sleeping again he lays there and cries (in his sleep) which means we have to go to him and either; a) flip him back over and start jiggling his bum so he’s lulled back to sleep – success rate 30% but time taken to do this 20-30 minutes b) attempt to console and cuddle him through the cries whilst doing the jiggle which usually results in him pushing us away and twisting around in our arms whilst still asleep – success 20% c) boobie feed and cuddle and hope he will lulled into a mummy snuggle – overall success 35% but only if he suckles away, once he’s lost the nipple – game over and d) none of the above works so he wakes up after screaming the place down and then proceeds to play for the next hour or two – 15%. (Disclaimer these are not accurate experimental findings and only one subject was part of this trial)
I remember going through some tough sleep or no sleep times with my eldest but no matter how you try to remember the pain and stress it caused at the time, time has blurred the reality of it so much that when you go through it again the it is raw and it grates at you every day that you miss yet another massive chunk of sleep and then you hit the Jekyll and Hyde zone.
I’m sure it must be difficult for a small being to process all this new information that’s going on in its world and trying to make sense of all these new movements and ways of getting about must take some processing but must it really disturb sleep??? Can’t it just knacker them out so much that they decide to sleep through the night instead??? Surely that’s a more logical way of dealing with it all?
In my delirious state I am dreaming of a day where I am sat on a beach being pampered with a cocktail in hand and feeling so exhausted from all the destressing that I must crawl into a sumptuously snuggly bed and sleep for a whole 12 hours.
So Father Christmas if you’ve been watching please PLEASE can you sprinkle a little magic this way and let my child sleep so mummy can sleep too. Believe me I won’t need much to make me feel like a new woman but it really is becoming an urgent matter that needs to be tended to otherwise please come and visit me in my padded cell on Christmas eve and deliver any goodies that I may have been good enough to deserve.
*Started this after I put smallest to bed at 6.45pm ….already been up to resettle for 20 minutes at 7.40pm, it’s going to be another loooooong night – call the men in white coats I’m packing my bags and going voluntarily.