It’s 2.13 am. The house is silent. Silent that is, except for the angry wails and shouts exploding from my nine month old daughter’s nursery. Baby girl is pissed. In fact I’m almost certain when I looked at the monitor screen I saw her give the camera The Ups (does anyone ever call it that anymore? I want to get that back into the vernacular).
This kid has the stamina of the Energizer bunny, and a fury raging within.
I’m ever so grateful in this moment that our home is flanked by an acreage property littered with gumtrees on one side. And the home of a lovely, profoundly deaf elderly neighbour on the other.
I was relieved the day the lady next door beckoned me over to the fence-line and
shouted asked if her mahjong nights were too rowdy. I shouted back “Are you serious? No way! My kids are way noisier”, and she kindly replied “Don’t worry about that, I’m deaf”, and then after a pause added “…and I raised five kids,” with a knowing and kind smile.
No one can hear you scream.
Well, the four other people living here can, but no one else.
But I digress.
Lord knows what my little Rosie’s problem is. Tonight she’s been panadoled, breastfed, gripe-watered, teething-gelled, dressed warmer, sung to, dressed cooler, patted, shushed, rocked. Nothing will calm her. She will not go to sleep.
It’s the new normal. I count two new wrinkles under my eyes every morning. I’m exhausted.
And so I sit here in the early morning darkness wondering how the heck I’m going to get through tomorrow on just three hours sleep. If I’m lucky. Could be two hours. Could be less.
And as I’m pondering how I’ll struggle through tomorrow (today, actually, but who’s game to pick me up on it?), with my three kidlets, another terrifying thought enters my overstimulated, crowded mind: I’m due to return to work on Wednesday.
That’s the day after tomorrow.
Not that every day isn’t work when you’re a stay at home mum. It is. It’s bloody hard work. But the daunting fact is, I’m supposed to be returning to my profession, the one I’m trained for, have a degree in, and get paid lots and lots of money to do (okay maybe not so much that last part).
Did I mention I’ve also just given up coffee? Yeah. Stupid. But I suspected my two cup per day habit may somehow have been keeping my baby awake at night. I’ve been off the caffeine for five days and no difference. Go figure.
So, if you’ve been following you’ll know that Responsive Settling has been the plan of action here. It’s not going so well.
Thank you to the kind fellow mums who have emailed me information and readings, links, articles and documents.
I appreciate your kindness and am systematically trying every single one of your ideas.
I’ll let you know if something works.
Also I’ll keep you updated on the coffee situation.