I’m meant to be having a nap, seeing as Little P is (finally).
My God I’m exhausted. 4 nights on the trot that average 3 hours of sleep, up for hours on end with a wailing, no, YELLing baby who is a bit poorly but mainly angry at being awake. She is just so loud. It really frustrates me that she doesn’t actually wake up that cross, but works herself up into such a state that she’ll cough and splutter and end up just supersonic. You can’t hear a thing except her, and the noise just slices through my ear drums and takes me back to the days she did this all day every day. When my husband takes a turn at calming her I can’t sleep either – call it Mummy hormones, or just the volume levels maybe but it’s impossible to sleep when she’s so upset. I wonder whether my tolerance levels are lower after being scarred by those early days, and with zero energy from so little sleep.
The hardest bit is that nothing seems to calm her down – cuddles, singing, rocking, shhhushing, even leaving her to cry out.
I’ve been feeling rough too. I’m on the cusp of something gross, my ears are ringing, head banging and throat sore – something I’m sure would have disappeared by now if it weren’t for the lack of sleep. Did I mention the sleep deprivation?! :-0
Anyway. ‘Marmite?’ I hear you ask.
Something that raised the smallest of smiles in the middle of the night was my sudden thought that babies have Marmite moments. You love them or hate them. Not REALLY, of course, but in the space of a second you can go from feelings of all consuming love, the ‘isn’t she perfect, I couldn’t be happier’ to ‘this is so hard, I can’t bear it, why won’t she stop?!’. Like last night as she finally lay sleeping beside me in bed, with her gorgeous little chubby cheeks and her precious little breaths huffing in and out right onto to my face… cherubic. Then just ten minutes later, that feeling of utter dread and ‘no no no’ as the spluttering started up and she woke for the fifth time to scream blue murder in my ear, streaming snot. Just as I had started to doze off. ARGH! You see – Marmite.
Another Marmite moment recently… ‘Look at us having a lovely time out in public! I’m so happy, she’s such a joy, everyone commenting ahhh how wonderful she is’… cut to – seconds later a nappy explosion, overtired baby and mid-Sainsburys screaming & stress – ‘FFS this is the worst afternoon ever!’. Love to hate. Happy happy happy, then Marmite lover kisses Marmite hater. Yeuch.
Other Marmite scenarios:
- Wow look she’s on the move! It’s so amazing. Clever girl! Cut to… Oh my God LEAVE THE LEGO/REMOTE/PLUGS ALONE! Why won’t she just stay where I left her like the good old days?
- It’s so adorable how he loves his little sister, ahhh look at them cuddling and giggling together *heart swell*. Cut to… For God’s sake let go of each other before you kill each other and we need to go, like, yesterday – COME ON… SHOOOOES! (blood boiling).
Amazing how everything lovely can change in a split second and the bad stuff leaves the longer lasting Marmite taste in our mouths, making us think the whole day has been shit. We must remember to remember the good bits too. The #mummyiswinning moments. Which do happen, sometimes, don’t they?!
Well, she’s up already and I’m off to have some baby on toast as I missed lunch. I’m a lover, not a hater. Num num.