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To Add Insult to Injury

I’m so tired, I laughed out loud at this after googling “insomnia”…

Now I can’t sleep! For the first two months of my newborn daughter’s life, I was falling asleep everywhere (as most mothers of a newborn and a toddler are, I’m sure): in the rocker nursing, on the sofa watching Monsters, Inc, on the futon reading the boy a story, occasionally in bed and again, every night, at least twice, in the rocker nursing. Now, insomnia has joined the already amazing party of depression, anxiety and stress. Welcome, old friend.

My nine week old baby (today) slept six and a half hours in a row last night. That should be cause for celebration. I should feel like the most well-rested, happy mom that ever was. Instead, it took me about an hour of that to fall asleep and then I woke up about five times for about ten minutes or so each and then, when she did finally wake up at 4:15, I couldn’t fall back asleep.

FOUR FIFTEEN IN THE MORNING.

Just letting that sink in. I nursed her for about 45 minutes and got caught up with the world (cough. Facebook.), then lay in bed for what seemed like an infinity pondering every conceivable thing I could possibly have on my mind for half an hour until finally, like a grown up, I got up.

This is the first time I have ever gotten up when I had insomnia. Usually I stay in bed hating myself – thinking about how amazing it is that when I open my eyes, my whole body feels like lead and all I want to do most in the world is close them so that I, the most tired person ever, can go to sleep, yet when I close my eyes, I’m solving world hunger and mapping out my whole life for the next ten years and really I should get up and write this down before it’s all gone (Hint: it’s all gone.).

I settled for tea and toast and reading a bit.

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Reasons My Child Makes Me SMH

1. If I walk past his shut door on my tiptoes in the evening or night, his little head will pop right up as he cries out, wanting to play or wanting me to sit beside him whilst he deliberately does NOT sleep. However, if I need him to wake in the morning, I can walk in his room loudly, open his blinds (which are really loud), take out his binkie, and talk to him and NOTHING. He barely stirs.

2. If I need to shower after the hubs leaves for work (which is often as I am also not a morning person), he will stay in the bathroom with me, like a good boy. However, he is adamant about me leaving the shower doors open, allowing all the heat to escape. As I quickly try and clean the oatmeal from my hair, he puts everything he can get his grubby little hands on into the shower with me: his step-stool, his potty, my towel (which was dry), various toys, anything he can manage to pull out of the cupboards (which are supposed to be child proofed)… And we have one of those teeny little ‘European’ showers, in which I would not be able to fit were I to gain five pounds.

3. He needs to have ALL doors and cupboards shut at all times. So, if I want to get in the fridge, for example, I have to be lightening quick and already know exactly where whatever it is I want to eat is, because I have about 1.2 seconds to get it out before he slams my poor hand inside the fridge, screaming at me for daring to disturb his well-ordered universe. It should be noted that usually when I’m getting something out of the fridge or cupboards, it’s because he’s yelling at me that he’s hungry.

To be continued…