Sleepless Nights

Category: Life

  • Stretched Thin

    My firewood was supposed to arrive today. So, I didn’t spend the day locking us in Amy’s room and sleeping, I didn’t spend the day playing in a warm bath with Amy, and I didn’t spend the day in my pajamas on the couch with a book.

    I would have much preferred to do those things, rather than waiting endlessly on a guy who never showed up.

    BEFORE the weekend he said, I’ll make sure I’m there he said.

    I say HAHAHAHFUCKINGHAHA.

    Next time I’m just gonna stay in my pj’s and bugger everyone else.

    I did however get things done today. Like the cooking for Nathan’s birthday lunch tomorrow (I could totally have done it in my pj’s). And Nathan cleaned up the trainwreck of a house and washed the dished while I dried.

    [Again, I could have stayed in my pj’s for that]

    I spent 2 hours trying to get Amy to nap, before giving up and letting her get back up. I didn’t let her pour salt all over the kitchen floor, but she did it anyway.

    I wouldn’t have let her fingerpaint with guacamole had she given me a choice. Unfortunately when you are 22 months Mummy’s wants and needs are very unrealistic.

    [Leave your nappy on. Do not stick that in your vagina. Don’t feed the dog your lunch when you are still hungry. DO NOT empty my kitchen drawers onto the floor. Stop shaking your drink all over the floor. GET YOUR BLOODY FINGERS OUT FROM MY CHOPPING BLOCK WHILE I AM CHOPPING THINGS.]

    And to add to the stress, Nan had her bronchoscopy today. Thankfully the doctor was able to take a sample of the primary tumour for testing. This means that Wednesday when we see the doctor we will know what we are dealing with.

    We will hopefully know what type of cancer it is and how fast it is likely to move without treatment. Nan will hopefully be able to discuss a treatment plan.

    We will know more than we do now.

    Knowledge is power and all that.

    I feel stretched thin.

  • Dummies are the Spawn of Satan.

    So the dummy weaning. Not going so well.

    I don’t mean that she is still using one, no, not that at all. She hasn’t had a dummy since I decided that she was going to give them up right! now!

    What I mean is that the SLEEPING that accompanied the dummy use is not going so well. Actually scratch that. The sleeping that accompanied the dummy use has become non existent.

    Naps? HAHAHAHA

    Overnight sleeping? HAHAHAH FUCKING HA.

    Sleeping for any amount of time at all so I can sleep to? Yeah well, if you got any sleep last night then I want to throw my shoes at you.

    Hmmmph.

    So, lets go over a regular day (today) here at Sleepless Nights (see? SEE why I didn’t rename my blog the week she actually slept through the night? It would have been a STUPID idea).

    12pm – Nap time. I have been hanging for nap time since we woke up this morning. I want a nap, I NEED a nap. I change Amy’s nappy, make sure her trackpants are comfy and put her into bed. She has a drink, her dog and duck, her soft blanket and a kiss.

    12.01 – Screaming at doorway (it’s gated with a convoluted assortment of crap designed to make it impossible to climb. For me as well). I clamber over all the crap and resettle. I leave.

    12.02 – Repeat.

    12.03 – Repeat.

    Repeat every minute until 12.45 when the bedroom goes silent. Hope like hell she is asleep and retire to the couch with a doona and pillow. I just start to doze off when a little voice calls from the hallway ‘Mummy! Ewwww, POO!’

    12.50 – Change a pooey nappy, remake bed, resettle, kiss and leave.

    12.50 and 5 seconds – Cue screaming.

    Over the next 40 minutes, I climbed in and out of her bedroom lots. Like fucking LOTS. No sign of sleepiness, no sign of settling.

    [I was so tired, my head might have exploded right about here]

    1.30 – Give up, climb into her room, cuddle toddler, curl up in her bed with her and try to fall asleep together.

    1.31 – Remove toddlers fingers from nose. My nose, not hers. I wouldn’t have had an issue if she was picking her OWN nose.

    Repeat for AN HOUR.

    There was no sleep forthcoming for me, and Amy seemed quite content to never sleep again.

    At 2.45, you *may* have been able to find me threatening to do horrible things to Nathan’s sleeping body if he didn’t wake the fuck up and help me out here. He woke up.

    After an afternoon of stress, a few inconsequential arguments (‘Put the cat down! AMY PUT THE CAT DOWN! SEVEN, STOP TRYING TO EAT THE CAT! AMY, PUT THE CAT DOWN NOW! SEVEN! PUSS! AMY! ARGHHHHHHH’) and some food, it was bedtime.

    Bedtime wasn’t quite so stressful. It only took an hour and 10 clambers in and out before she finally settled and fell asleep (at least, I am hoping she is asleep, it’s pretty quiet in there).

    However, the last few nights, she only managed to stay in her own bed until about midnight, after having her scream for 20 minutes I would just give up and take her into bed with me.

    Hell, it’s the middle of winter here and if I am going to be awake for hours with a bouncy toddler, by GOD I am going to do it from the warmth of my own bed. Path of least resistance and all that.

    Have you tried sleeping with your toddler lately? They are poky and bony and they kick! Seriously, what is with the need to kick me in the bladder hundreds of times!

    AND, since I weaned Amy off the breast, she seems to feel the need to assure herself that my boobs are still there. I am spending a lot of the night with a sleeping toddler twiddling my nipple. I don’t even know if she knows she is doing it, but whenever she wakes up, she shoves her ice cold hands down my top mumbling ‘boobies…’

    I am so freaking tired I feel sick. Please don’t tell me that naps are going to disappear forever, because I don’t think I could handle that right now.

    Am off to sleep now, g’ni…zzzzzzzzzz….

  • Dear Nathan…

    Dear Nathan,

    Thankyou for taking every second turn settling Amy this afternoon for her nap. I know that she still isn’t asleep, but hopefully with both of us working on her she will go down soon.

    Thankyou for not undermining me when I decided that today Amy stops having dummies full stop. I am sick of her being so attached to it, and her talking is getting a little bit lazy because of this.

    I know it’s hard for you when you have to re-settle her and she is asking ‘dummy please? Please?’ and you have to tell her no. I think I am more relaxed because I have already weaned her from breastfeeds over night (by myself) and then from breastfeeding full stop. God knows it’s much pleasanter when I have you here to take turns.

    Thankyou for taking extra turns when my body suddenly decided that while I might have been feeling too sick to eat all morning, the fact that I hadn’t eaten meant that it was going to stop working so well for me. Thankyou for settling her while I forced down some fruit and waited to stop feeling dizzy and nauseous.

    She’s getting closer to being settled now, I haven’t looked in there for a bit so I hope she hasn’t found a stray dummy. I know that it has been nearly 2 hours of wailing and crying, but she is so close to being worn out, she should be asleep soon.

    God, I hope she goes to sleep soon.

    Thankyou for being supportive this week while there has been stuff going on. I know that you are hurting just as badly as I am, you just don’t show it. We will get through it together and hopefully it won’t be as bad as we anticipate.

    You’re starting to accept the fact that I am pregnant a little more readily now. I think you were aloof in the beginning because I had had the bleeding and as far as I can tell, you didn’t want to get attached if it wasn’t going to work out. However we have seen a heartbeat now and my stomach is poking out more and more and you are more willing to talk about it.

    Not to mention we tried for so long to get here, it’s hard to hope that it will all be fine.

    The noise from the bedroom is lessening, we have gone from crying/wailing/screaming to talking and singing, and now to finally the occasional loud sigh. I think we might be getting there.

    I know I don’t blog about you much and I think you prefer it that way, but it seems that sometimes people forget that when I am whinging about a bad time getting Amy down, or numerous poos in a row, that you are here doing this with me. I might be a stay at home mum, but I am not alone in this and that means the world to me.

    I find it funny that the other night when I went out (family dinner) I was asked often where Amy was. When I replied she is with her father, I then get asked if we were still together. Do you think alot of people equate young mothers with single mothers? I don’t think they realised that you were older and very much ready to settle down when I fell pregnant.

    And so was I. That is why this worked for us.

    There is no one I would rather be doing this with. I love you oh so much.

    Veronica

  • It’s Been A Bad Day, Please Don’t Take A Picture

    So I need you to do some imagining.

    Last night:

    First, you have a toddler and that toddler gets into the sugar bowl at 9.30pm, 2 hours after bedtime. Then that toddler suddenly had all! this! extra! energy! and discovers how to break out of her gated bedroom.

    Then you have to imagine various levels of toddler chaos until midnight, when she finally settled enough to fall asleep for me.

    Then she wakes a few times between 12am and 7am. At 7am her world needs to end and she needs to come to bed with Mummy for a few hours, regularly kicking Mummy in the back.

    She then spent the day out with my Mum (thankyou!) and came home in a slightly clingy, but mostly happy mood.

    She fingerpainted with guacamole, all over the carpet. She refused to eat her dinner, but sat next to me and ate all mine quite happily (seriously, how does that reasoning work?).

    Then I puked. And got a splinter. And trod on a bead and swore to high heaven.

    So, I did what I always do on shitty days. I turned on the music really loud and danced and sung like an idiot. Can you picture me dancing and singing like an idiot with Amy on my hip? Amy thought it was hilarious. So did I until I looked down and realised that she had pooped all over my hip.

    So, here is my song for bad days. It needs playing up REALLY REALLY loud.

  • Bedtime Woes

    Sometimes I just get so angry that I could happily beat things to death. Especially at bedtime.

    Amy is never the reason I am angry, I accept that some nights she has trouble falling asleep and needs me to go and cuddle/resettle/kiss her eleventy hundred times.

    No, I get angry at things that are preventing Amy from falling asleep.

    Like when she will have just settled, and then the dog will insist on dragging the cat around the house growling, while the cat yowls and then, when I finally have them separated, Seven will bark and Amy will get out of bed just to tell Seven to ‘Shhhhh Dog!’.

    Or, when she is just falling asleep and then a cat will jump into her bedroom, prompting cries of ‘Kitten! kitten! Here pleasey!’ from Amy, again with her needing to get out of bed.

    And then again, when she is finally settled and all the animals are outside so that I don’t kill them with my rolling pin, or god forbid, my bare hands, the kittens will hear her in her bedroom (she sings herself to sleep) and jump onto her window sill and meow.

    And then she will get out of bed, and then Seven will jump up against her gate whining and Amy will spend all her time trying to climb over her gate, so she can hug Seven and then I will finally get Seven AWAY FROM THE FUCKING KID and I will get Amy BACK into bed and settled and everything will be sweet until Seven decides that she needs to pee and scratches to go outside, right outside of Amy’s bedroom.

    So, I will put Seven out, and put Amy back to bed, then Seven will scratch to come in and bother Amy A-FUCKING-GAIN and I will curse the person who put 2 of the bedrooms right near the outside door.

    THEN, I will bring Seven inside and wonder why the fuck I bothered because she obviously didn’t need to go outside in the first fucking place BECAUSE SHE IS PEEING IN MY CLEAN FUCKING LAUNDRY A-FUCKING-GAIN.

    And then, Seven will settle and Amy will settle and I will stop visualising murder and death and a padded room….

    And then…

    Amy will have a bad run of diarrhoea needing me to change her nappy 4 times in 20 minutes.

    And I will repeat everything ALL OVER AGAIN.

    Hi, My name is Veronica and this is MY LIFE.