Sleepless Nights

Blog

  • Seven Years

    Seven years ago this February I got sick.

    Seven years of doctors visits.

    Of being told:

    ‘It’s all in her head.’

    ‘She’s pulling the wool over your eyes, she just doesn’t want to go to school.’

    ‘Her tests are clear, how is her relationship with her father?’

    ‘She’s anorexic.’

    ‘There’s nothing. Go home.’

    ‘Go home.’

    ‘Can’t help.’

    ‘Nothing there.’

    Seven years.

    Seven years of nausea.

    Of joint pain.

    Of dislocations.

    Of exhaustion and muscle fatigue.

    Of trying to tell doctors that other family members of mine have the same symptoms.

    Of being given a diagnosis of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome in order to call it something, just to make us go away.

    Seven fucking years.

    Lots of doctors. Lots of tests.

    And nothing.

    Today though, today I walked into a doctors office and walked out with a diagnosis.

    I was told, ‘It’s a straight forward case. It’s a clear diagnosis. I am 100% certain that this is what you have.’

    I was diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome today.

    And while it’s not a fantastic syndrome to have (dislocations, joint pain, no cure, etc etc), ANYTHING is better than being called a liar. Anything is better than being told you are faking it and to go away and come back when you are truly sick.

    Anything.

  • How to…

    …write a blog post with 2 children, a partner and a dog all at home bothering you.

    Find some time to sit down with your laptop. Try and ignore the steadily increasing pile of clean washing that needs folding and look dead ahead at your screen.

    Think.

    Think.

    Think.

    Settle Isaac down for a nap under his activity gym, because if he isn’t complaining about laying under there, why rock the boat?

    Feed Amy lunch.

    Send partner outside to have a damn smoke already and stop looking at me like that, I swear I’ll help with the housework in just a minute and seriously dude, you’re not working anymore, what’s with all the martyrdom?

    Close laptop lid and resettle Isaac because Amy nearly fell on him just as his eyes closed.

    Wonder why on earth you never thought of settling him under the activity gym before. Wonder if it would work all night. Wonder if we need a mobile for his cot.

    Lament the fact that Isaac likes falling asleep with the blankets over his head. Wonder if you will ever stop panicking when you wake at 2am and can only see a lump of blankets next to you instead of a nicely sleeping infant’s head.

    Give Isaac back his dummy.

    Lather, rinse, repeat for the next 10 minutes. Start to wonder if 10 minutes ‘rest’ is actually enough for him.

    Close laptop lid and get up to check on dinner. Get distracted while you are there and make yourself a cup of tea. Get distracted once the tea is made and forget to drink it.

    Come back inside with a grubby toddler in tow and remember your tea. Also your blog post.

    Sigh.

    Open laptop again.

    Think of a topic. Something deep. Something humorous. Something fun.

    Give up because one of the children needs a nappy change. Curse toilet training regression. We were NEARLY there and now, nothing.

    Sigh.

    Close laptop lid and check dinner again. Not cooked yet. Thank god you remembered to put it on to cook early enough.

    Have partner cover you in random couch cushions. Wish that the kids weren’t awake so you could turn it into some sort of game and make it fun at least.

    Remember that blog post you started an hour ago? Still sitting there. Get distracted checking your reader and trying to comment on blogs. Give up commenting and just read. [Hi guys]

    Wonder if showering alone is actually counted as alone time. If so, that sucks.

    Resettle tired baby. 30 second cat naps appear to be his forte. Curse the genetics that gave you non-sleeping children.

    Try and write something while breastfeeding. Fail.

    Give up entirely and write about your last few days of trying to write a blog post instead.

    Press publish and try to ignore the fact that you suck.

    074

    073

  • Maybe it’s Amy’s wabbit?

    Amy awoke this morning to find a chocolate rabbit and an egg sitting on the mantlepiece.

    ‘OOOOOOOOH!’ She goes. ‘Chocowate!’

    ‘Look’s like the Easter Bunny came.’ I replied.

    She looked at me strangely.

    ‘Because it’s Easter, the Easter Bunny comes and brings chocolate eggs.’

    [Yeah, try explaining THAT logic to a 2yo]

    ‘Maybe it’s Amy’s wabbit…’

    ‘Of course it’s Amy’s. The Easter Bunny brought it for you.’

    ‘Maybe Amy have the wabbit?’

    ‘You can have the rabbit.’

    ‘YAY! YIPPEEE! WOOHOOO! AMY’S WABBIT!!!’

    ****

    We received a parcel from Sharon in Western Australia yesterday. As soon as Amy saw the pink jumper Sharon had knitted, she immediately declared it a ‘Princess jumper!’. I think the jumper is going to be much liked. Isaac got a jumper too and it will fit him beautifully. Thankyou Sharon.

    ****

    We bought a Wii Fit the other day. It took me until Nathan and I played on  it to stop feeling guilty about spending the money.

    However? It’s probably one of the best things I have bought. I feel so much better for doing the exercises each day.

    And I mean, when everything is going to shit around you, the least you can do is exercise, right?

    ****

    Nan’s chemo is knocking her around pretty badly. She’s terribly sick with it and it’s so hard to watch because dammit, I just want to make it better. Or easier. Or something.

    ****

    Isaac and bunny ears

    Eggs

  • Uncle David and Isaac

    David and Isaac

  • Buttons

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    I have an announcement.

    Isaac? He sleeps better than Amy does. He is 11 weeks old.

    Do you have any idea how tired that makes me? Because seriously, he is sleeping 6-8 hours overnight* and yet, I’m somehow managing to have to get up for Amy 3-4 times a night. Sometimes all she needs is a drink. Sometimes she needs a cuddle. Sometimes she needs to scream at me to ‘GO WAY MUMMY!’ Sometimes? She needs all three.

    It’s exhausting.

    So when I was woken up at godawful o’clock this morning to feed Isaac, I was looking forward to going back to sleep. I was not ready to be woken up by a toddler who had decided it was morning time. I was NOT ready for Isaac to decide it was morning time too.

    Even worse? I wasn’t ready to look at the clock and realise that today? The clocks need to go back an hour.

    It was bad enough that the clock said 6.30am when I stumbled out to the lounge room. Everything started to look infinitely worse when I had to change it back to 5.30am.

    [For the record, Amy sleeps badly, so generally she makes up for this by sleeping in a little. Normally, I don’t have to start my day until 7.45 ish.]

    Today is not a good day.

    ***

    Dear Amy,

    I could happily live out the rest of my life without ever hearing you yell ‘I’m still HUNGRY! Need FOOD!’ when there is still a full bowl of cereal in front of you. You are NOT still hungry, you are trying to see what else in the house might be better to eat than cereal. I’m not giving you sweets, or biscuits, even less so at breakfast time. SUCK IT UP and eat the dammed cereal already.

    I will swap your cereal for an apple if you like. Even for toast. But if you specifically request rice bubbles and then after one bite start yelling ‘still hungry’ while the cereal sits there going soggy? I might get a little grumpy.

    Maybe even more than a little grumpy. In fact, it is the one statement that is almost guaranteed to make my head explode.

    Eat the food that you specifically requested already.

    Love Mummy [who is so incredibly fucking sick of hearing ‘I’m still HUNGRY!! Need FOOD!!’ when there is still a shitload of food on your plate. So much so that I am having to restrain myself from swearing more. And if you read this when you are 15 and angsty, you can blame me for all your problems. That’s okay, I have broad shoulders. But you read this when you have a toddler? You will get where I am coming from. Eat the dammed food.]

    ***

    Dear Isaac,

    I love that you are sleeping for 8 hours overnight.

    I don’t love that you are refusing to nap for longer than 10 minutes the other 16 hours in the day. Cat naps only work for cats. Stop it. By the time bedtime rocks around you are so tired all you can do is scream. I’m getting a little strung out here baby boy.

    Love Mummy [who is exhausted, but at least a 10pm bedtime is better than last week when it was a midnight bedtime.]

    ***

    Apparently dairy free also means chocolate free. And caffeine free. And chocolate biscuit free.

    No cheese. No chocolate. No milk. No coffee. No cream. No ice-cream.

    Hey, at least the rest of breastfeeding [for me] is easy.

    Sigh.

    Mum bought me some soy milk, so at least I can have a cup of tea.

    Still. Sucks.

    ***

    In conclusion. Daylight savings can go get fucked. Amy’s behaviour at the moment SUCKS. Isaac sleeps amazingly overnight, at the expense of day naps. I can’t eat chocolate or cheese, which almost makes eating not worth it at all and my house is covered in brains from the numerous head explosions I have been having.

    Oh and I have buttons and Amy knows how to press them.

    On the upside, Nathan managed to get himself into a standing position and hobble around for a bit yesterday. Yay for Advil.

    Sigh.

    *Okay, so once he has had his 8 hours in bed, he wants to get back up and party, so really, I’m having 16 hours of awake time from him, but WHATEVER. He is sleeping 8 hours IN A ROW, overnight. Something Amy can’t seem to manage.

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