I spent the better part of my weekend baking, cooking, cleaning, washing, folding, ironing labels, pumping milk and getting organised.
I even pre-packed the slow cooker and put it in the fridge so all I had to do was put it in the case and turn it on.
Of course, because that's how these things work, at 11pm, just as I was crawling into bed, my daughter wakes up.
At first it's a little mewling here and there and then she's quiet. We think that she's just having a yell and has gone back to sleep when the full blown screaming starts. And I mean screaming. Miss Molly has inherited Mum's lungs.
Juffin goes in and sees if he can settle her with a cuddle and a song.
Yes, he sings to her, I don't know what he sings but it works, most of the time.
Anyway, she settles quickly and goes back to sleep. I go back to bed and try and relax, mentally running through all the things that I have to do in the morning to get to work on time.
The screaming starts again, she has realised Dad has gone.
He tries again but she's all worked up now and is not having a bar of it.
I go in. I sing, I cuddle, I bum pat and hum, I lay on the floor next to her cot.
The crying continues.
It's now after midnight.
Juffin takes over again and I go back to bed and lay down but who can sleep with a baby screaming?
At 1am I go in and feed her so we can all get some bloody rest. Boob and babies usually equals sleep but in this case it's not happening. At 1.30 I give up.
She is fed, she is dry, she is loved, she is a shit and she needs to go the fuck to sleep.
I walk out and shut the door.
Screaming continues for another 15 minutes before Juffin can't take it any longer and he goes back in. Exhausted I fall asleep. It's after 2.
I have no idea what time Juffin finally gets into bed because I wake with a start to sun streaming in on my face and freaking out that my alarm has stopped working. Alas it's only 5. Unfortunately I then just lay there, unable to go back to sleep for fear I won't wake up in time to get myself and the kids ready for work and daycare.
So my first day back. I have maybe 3.5-4 hours sleep. My makeup melts off before I even get out the door, Mushroom is attempting world record as slowest shoe putterer on-nerer and Molly won't co-operate with nappy cream application and/or nappy snapping.
I am yelling, it's 7.50 and I wanted to be leaving by this time. Kids don't care. I throw my work clothes on and I herd slowest small human alive into vehicle and then load the 17000 bags that contain the necessary items to get my kids through the day and we get in the car.
Sweat is dripping off my face and I make it to the roundabout before I realise that I've left my glasses behind and I can't be staring at a computer screen all day with no glasses. I have to go back to get them. I turn around and burn back to the house.
"Why are we going back home Mummy?"
"Because I'm a fucking idiot" I grunt under my breath.
"What Mummy? What you say?"
"Mummy forgot her glasses darling. I just have to go back and get my bloody glasses.."
I locate glasses. As I'm rushing around my tummy grumbles and I find that my toast is still sitting on the bench uneaten so I grab that and I also spy my coffee.
Coffee that has not yet been consumed.
That's why my brain isn't working. Not enough caffeine. The 3.5 hours sleep has nothing to do with it....
Here's where I would talk about dropping my daughter off at daycare for the first time but I may cry. So I won't. I really wanted to find my girl a small family daycare, just like I did for Mushroom, but it just didn't happen. I couldn't find anywhere close enough and driving all the way across town and doing a separate drop off with Mushroom wouldn't work.
I'm not saying that the centre is bad, it's just not what I would have preferred for my baby girl.
Anyway we survived, she survived, she slept, she ate, she cried. I got blisters because I haven't worn shoes in so long...
Our little bubble has burst and on Wednesday we do it all again...
|We're not tired. Sleep is for the weak!|