Playing House

Somehow the idea of playing house was a lot easier in my dreams of having a family (much like the idea of getting pregnant being easy, the idea of leaving high school for the big bad world being easy, the idea of doing it all being easy). The idea of losing weight after babies being easy. But that is a whole other post! Back to the topic at hand …

A 3 year old boy and a 2 year old boy require about the same amount of exercise as 6 farm dogs to be tired enough to sleep at night. Or 2 Labrador puppies. Hence we have had sleep issues for years now. I am not even joking. At 11 months old F was in hospital with a bad virus and decided on me was the only place to go to sleep at night. Fast forward a year and he still felt I was the only place to go to sleep at night. This became exhausting and meant I had no time out in the evenings. C then decided that he needed to come into our bed in the middle of the night and F soon followed suit. Then they both decided sleep was for sissies. Fun times! I conclude that this was my punishment for having babies who slept through from 5 weeks old.

Until they didn’t.

Lack of sleep for extended periods of time does funny things to a person. Essentially my memory has been fried. This makes work difficult when I can’t remember which customer I was serving, I forget I took someone’s passport and immigration papers and it takes tears to return them half an hour later when it suddenly clicks that I had indeed served them (oops!) and I have the attention span of a fruit fly (I may or may not have googled that, google is awesome, especially when you tell it you have x,y and z wrong with you and it tells you you are dying). Anyway, what was I talking about again?

Right, so lack of sleep can really stuff you up (did I already say that?) and I am at the point where I literally feel like I might be going crazy (in a hormonal evil witch way, a which way is up way and a ‘CHOCOLATE!’ kind of way – hence the weight thing becoming an issue). My solution over summer was to drink lots of beer (on top of the coffee addiction). Unfortunately after months of multiple beers a night I realised that alcohol was making the problem of being snappy and grumpy and just not a box of fluffies worse. I’m not depressed, I’m just exhausted with two very full on (F is VERY full on) little boys on a few hours sleep a night, 5am wake ups, a full time job, a commute home, 2 hours in the evening with which to stay on top of house work and cook dinner (enter exhibit number 2 causing weight gain – easy meals. Sausages in bread, sausage rolls, pies, pasta, rice – pretty much anything that does not include anything green or rather, anything one might consider healthy).

So yes, I am a balanced crazy. But nobody wants to admit that they find it hard do they?

Does anyone else often feel crazy from this full time job called parenting where you have tiny little unpredictable humans driving you slightly insane while being completely loveable at the same time?

One of those nights

All mums have had them. Those nights where you get barely any sleep (to give you an idea I just wrote barely bearly and then thought it looked a bit odd but then, that’s how scrambled my brain is this morning). You know how they always tell you when you have your first child that the second won’t be so easy? They gleefully rub their hands together and say how lucky you are to have such a placid wee soul and how lovely it must be to have a baby who sleeps and doesn’t really do tantrums but ‘the next one probably won’t be so easy! Mark my words!’ This said with the slight manic giggle of someone who has multiple children who are driving them quite literally insane and can’t wait for someone else to join the club. Well, I am joining the club! Because my second is a Hayden baby. What is a Hayden baby you ask? Well, my husband is named Hayden and he was a nightmare child. He cried till he could walk and when he could walk he ran. And he didn’t sleep. Sleep is overrated. And he was just a tad hyper (ok, maybe a lot hyper). It’s a running joke in the family that at least we didn’t get a Hayden baby! Hmph. I love to remind him of this now that we have our very own Hayden baby!


This child. Finley. Butter wouldn’t melt right? Don’t be fooled!

He started off more of a Cohen baby, nice and settled, slept well, slept through, breastfed no problem … it’s only in the last 6 months that we have come to realise that this little man is going to keep us on our toes and turn us grey (ok, so I MAY already have a few grey hairs but I swear he is making me go greyer) and he will turn me into a coffee addict in no time at all! Oh, wait. Make that a wine addict. Actually, any kind of alcohol will do.

Take last night for example (and the night before, and the night before that). He has decided that he rather enjoys cuddles in mummy and daddy’s bed at night. Not just at the beginning of the night, but in the middle of the night, early morning, he’s really not fussy! What child wouldn’t love snuggles in the night. Why sleep in your own cot when you can cry hysterically and climb into bed with mummy and be cuddled to sleep! He shares a room with his brother so I am limited to what I can do about it as I can’t really leave an hysterically crying baby when I have another child in the room trying to sleep. So up he gets and into my bed to be cuddled to sleep. Basically, he gets exactly what he wanted. The little tyke is playing us. The trouble is, he’s winning!

So, 10pm just as I was drifting off to sleep. Grizzle. Silence (don’t move just in case he senses it). Grizzle. Wah. Wah. Waaaah. WAHHHHH! Crap. So up I get, bring him in and cuddle him to sleep. Get up, put him back to bed. 5 minutes later. Wah. WAH. Up again, bring him back to bed. Hayden gets up and goes to the couch to sleep (keep in mind we both have work today!). This time it’s not so easy to get him to sleep. We have grizzles and wriggles and kicking and squirming and crying for an hour or so. FINALLY, we both fall asleep and I transfer him back to bed about 2am. Back to my bed. Blissful sleep at last. Feel like someone is watching me. Open my eyes to a small person standing next to my head. ‘Hello mummy, what are you doing?’. Cohen. 3.30am. Drag him into our bed. Vaguely sense that he has got back up and grabbed my phone and come back to bed with it. Hear his game start up (he has puzzles on my phone that he is suddenly obsessed with). Too tired to care. Go back to sleep. Wake up. Panic. Realise said child with phone has turned off the alarms! Launch out of bed and realise that I forgot to put pillowcases on our pillows two days ago. What?! Who does that? And how did I not even notice?!

I’m now at work. Second coffee in hand. About to get a third. Probably had about 3 hours broken sleep last night to go with my 4 hours the night before. He’s lucky he’s cute! And he’s lucky we have a coffee machine at work. My workmates aren’t lucky because I will probably be cranky and snappy and they will probably get the brunt of it. Lucky we have a coffee machine at work. And a bar upstairs.