Because what the internet needs is more wittering about rubbish parenting

Friday, 15 July 2011

Sleep Is For The Weak

The New'un, bless her little face, has not been too horrific on the sleeping front. She has been going at least 3 hours between feeds, often 4 and sometimes even 5, which I can cope with. But on Tuesday night, she decided she wanted feeding every 2 hours, which was tiresome, to say the least. It was not helped by the fact The Toddler decided to wake every 2 hours too. Unfortunately, they were not the same hours that The New'un woke at. Husband ended up in The Toddler's bed in the small hours of the morning, only to be screamed out of it by her demanding breakfast at 6am. But never mind, the next night would be better.

The Toddler was indeed so tired on Wednesday night that she fell into a deep, deep sleep, and stayed there until a reasonable hour the next morning. But The New'un woke at 1.30am, screaming. Not whingeing or moaning or crying, but screaming her little heart out. She was clearly in some kind of pain, and the only thing that would even vaguely settle her was me walking around jiggling her. All. Freaking. Night. She continued to be poorly and screamy for most of the next day, but by bedtime she was pretty much back to normal. So maybe we could catch up with our sleep now.

And The New'un surprised me by sleeping through for the very first time, from 11.30 to 6am. Woo. Or at least it would be woo, if it weren't for the other one deciding to wake up.. well, I don't actually know at what intervals, as I made Husband deal with her, but I believe it was very frequent indeed.

It is enough to make you suspect some kind of collusion. OK, that's unlikely given that one of them can't even speak yet, but very tired brains can suspect very silly things.

I'm a bit apprehensive as to what tonight might bring. Or, more to the point, I'm REALLY apprehensive as to what tomorrow night might bring, as tomorrow is Husband's first shift back at work after a ridiculous amount of time off. And he's working 10pm til 7am, so the pleasure of whatever shenanigans our beautiful daughters decided to throw at me is mine, all mine. And when the night is through, I get to get up early, and get us all ready and out of Husband's way so he can sleep. I'm going to be a gibbering wreck by next week. More so than usual.

And on another note, I have just referred to The Toddler as "The Toddler". In real life and everything. Accusations that I spend too much time online may have a grain of truth in them....

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