Pretty much since the day of publishing that post I have felt like a fraud, like I was experiencing some kind of bad karma from all those exhausted parents out there. This last week Little Fearse has been waking five or six times a night, wanting a feed or a cuddle or her dummy put back in. I have NOT enjoyed it. I have even been known to say “OH FOR
FUCK’S PETE’S* SAKE” at a heightened volume in the middle of the night. I have been dragging my feet to get out of bed, dragging my feet to get to school, yawning through classes and even at one point parked my car outside Aldi only to come out and find it half way across the car park. I hadn’t put the hand brake on OR put the car in park.
This is it. I can handle waking once a night. I can handle waking twice a night. I can handle only four hours sleep in a row. But this is my threshold – this is where I draw my line. I cannot handle waking five or six times a night.
I still feel lucky that I can comfort my child, but gee wilikers Little Fearse, give a Mum a break!
*My Dad, who is probably our most loyal reader, has suggested that I “lose dignity” when I swear on the blog. I explained that I used this to demonstrate the depth of my frustration, but he still felt it was unwarranted. I don’t necessarily agree – Dad and I have had an ongoing disagreement since I was a teenager about “bad language” and its use and purpose. I do, however, value my Dad as a reader and want him to know that. So in deference for his readership, I make a promise to try very hard to no longer include any swearing in the blog. I can’t make any such promises for Big Poppa. 😉