We’ve had a pretty full on week. On Tuesday
we had a friend’s funeral, which was heartbreaking, and then that same
afternoon Little Miss came down with violent gastro, which was horrendous. I was
working towards a major deadline I absolutely had to meet for a work project,
as well as a million other little deadlines for various jobs leading up to the
end of the year. Needless to say, I’ve been a bit stressed and emotional.
Normally, any one of these things would
make me feel anxious and overwhelmed, but this was like a perfect storm of stressful events. Oh, and then our hot water tank crapped itself (again), just to make things interesting. During times like this, I really need my sleep. I go a bit crazy
if I’m trying to deal with stress and I’m sleep deprived as well. Sleep
deprivation can then make me feel even more stressed and anxious, so this can
be a really vicious cycle.
The kiddies haven’t been too bad with their
sleeping lately, generally sleeping through the night, or at least not needing
me to go into them if they do wake. But this week, just when I needed a good 6
or 7 hours a night, my two terrors toddlers decided to take it in turns
to torture me each and every night.
I’m sure they were getting together before
bedtime to decide who’s turn it was to wake that night. I’d see them
whispering, heads together, conversing in their own special language, and I’m
pretty sure it went something like this:
 |
Toddler tête-à-tête
|
Little Miss: “Look, I know you’re tired,
but it’s got to be you tonight. I’m actually feeling quite unwell, and really
need to have a good sleep tonight. You’re hanging out with Nanna tomorrow and
she always lets you have a little sleep in the pram when she takes you for a
walk in the morning, so you’ll be sweet.”
Stuntman: “Aww, but I did it last night! I’m
still buggered from waking up nine times. Nine times! That’s like a new record
for me. I can’t go again tonight, you do it sis!”
Little Miss: “Well OK, but if I’m going to
do it, then I’m going to do it properly. I’m going to scream and shout and maybe
even vomit a little. If I wake you up, don’t come crying to me in the morning.”
True to her word, Little Miss certainly did
scream and shout, and yes, she even vomited a little. Well, a lot actually. And
then the next night, she slept all the way through, but the Stuntman woke every
couple of hours needing a cuddle. Or a boob. Or a cuddly boob. Then back to
Little Miss the following night. All. Fucking. Week.
Far out. I need a trolley for the bags
under my eyes. Or a pillow. Oh yeah, a pillow, a nice soft, clean-smelling
pillow to rest my …ZZzzzZZzzzzZZZZZzzzZZZZzzzZZZZzzzZZ…..
