The lost art of sleep.

So it’s 8:30pm on a Saturday and I’m lying here in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Of course this isn’t happening for two reasons. Reason 1. The neighbours next to me actually have a life and are outside in their garden talking loudly about the difference between cloudy apple and regular cidar. I wish I had a cidar, maybe it’d help put me to sleep. I also wish they’d STFU. Reason 2. I have a 6 week old baby. She’s been up all day with minimal sleep and is now over tired. She lies there in her bed sounding like a drunk Glaswegian. “Gerrferyaaaboooo *grunt* *hic*” keeping me awake. A daily pattern is emerging and I’m beginning to dread it. I feel completely powerless to stop. Eyelids…so…heavy…

 

People joke to you when you are pregnant, “oh you’re in for some sleepless nights!” And now I wish I could go back and punch them in the face. Not because they were right, which they were, but because of severe sleep deprivation. I actually hate other humans now. Way way more than when I got my drivers licence and discovered the anonymity of yelling at other motorists from inside my car. How on earth are you supposed to survive on two hours sleep? No wonder it’s a form of torture!

 

It’s when my drunk Glaswegian has shat herself and projectile vomited on me at 3am all that friendly advice on saving your sleep goes through my mind. There are a million books on how to settle your baby and how to put your baby into a routine but the truth is, she’s a baby. She is gonna do what babies do. What is that exactly? Give an 85 year old a whole bottle of tequilla and watch your night play out. Don’t get me wrong, I am open to as many suggestions you can throw at me and please feel free but there’s one key piece of advice that has helped me through and that is “sleep when the baby sleeps.” I’ve let go of my old 9am-5pm work time, 5pm – 11pm suzi time 11pm-6am sleep time routine I’ve had since forever and started living my life in three hourly cycles. It sucks arse, especially when your baby chooses to sleep through The Only Way is Essex but hey, foxtel can record, right?! On that note, my drunk Glaswegian has passed out good and proper. One eye slightly open, the bottle hanging half way out her mouth and mascara smudged under her eyes. Oh wait, I’ve just regressed 10 years, those last two are mine. Happy sleeping!

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