I’m going to moan, I’m going to get it out. I just want to sleep. That’s all, sleeeeeep.
I want to sleep for more than 8 hours, for one night. No. I take that back, I want to sleep over 8 hours, every night, for a week. I want to go to bed not because I really should, but because I want to. I want to wake when I feel like it. Not because Jess is shouting Mummay Mummmmmmay Muuuuuuummmmay, forcing me to move from my warm, cozy bed.
I just want sleep. I do.
When you are up the duff with your first child, people jokingly (smugly) tell you that you will never sleep again. Being a naive twat, you dismiss this nonsense as blatant scaremongering and exaggeration. But it’s not. It’s true.
Do you know when the last time I slept was?! No, me neither. I wouldn’t say it was 2 years ago, before the birth of sleep destroyer. I didn’t sleep for 2 nights before I managed to evict that beast out. I didn’t even sleep for the last 2 months of my pregnancy, you tell me how any human is meant to sleep with a 7 pound plus baby ball stuck on them….no, no, hold up, I gained almost 3 stone in pregnancy. Granted Jess wasn’t a 3 stone baby, but I carried the majority of that weight on my arse, boobs and belly. So no, I didn’t sleep then. I couldn’t lie on my side without some form of weight distribution tools, clearly I couldn’t lie on my front, and if I felt suicidal I would lie on my back. It was and still is bullcrap.
I just want to sleep.
The first few months…ha….years, of a kids life, no one is going to be sleeping. Oh sorry, apart from the dad. I’m going to skip any narrative on a dads hearing ability here, the selective hearing. I wouldn’t like to start a fight… You don’t get sleep when it’s in you and you don’t get sleep when it’s out of you – the kids that it. Not the dad, I could nap either way.
But listen, I’m done with this. I want to sleep! For the love of zzz just let me sleep! Every night, every single night, I go to bed, already wishing for an early night after work the next day. What is wrong with me?! Why don’t I just got to bed early?! I’ll tell you why. Jessica that’s why. By the time she goes to bed, we cook (order food), clean, chat, get things ready for the next day its about 9/10pm. And everyone knows you need an hour or so to wind down after the day. Before you know it, it’s 12am and you’re lying in bed scrolling through random social media posts.
You know what happens after 12am? You get a little crazy, a second wind if you like. I feel wide awake, like I could jump up and deep clean the kitchen. I’m full of energy. I toss and turn for what seems like hours, imagining myself at 7am when the bed is at peak comfy, I try to trick my mind into believing I’m so warm and comfortable. But I’m not, the bed may as well be a bed of glass, snoring, duvet stealing glass…again, I’m going to swerve man’s ability, the ability to fall asleep instantly. So I lie there, awake, fretting about how little sleep I will get yet again and think how lucky parents of grown up children are. Look at them, nearing retirement, going to bed early or late, waking when they like, living the dream. Disgusting.
Honestly, I love Jess to bits but this is just bull! It’s been 2 years, how am I not used to this by now?! At first I thought breastfeeding through the night was horrendously tiring and when it stopped it was bitter sweet. I was thrilled at being able to sleep all night. Now, now I’m over that ‘all night’ thought. I want more. I want to sleep when I like. I want to stay up past 1am on a Friday, I want to watch all the crap TV and fall asleep on the couch, then make my way to bed at 3am without fear of a 7am wake up call. I want to sleep until 12pm, like I did when I was a teenager. Come to think of it, why did my parent’s shame and force me out of my glorious bed back then? Were they trying to prepare me for life? Were they jealous? Or was it payback? Do you reach an age when waking at 9am or earlier is just a way of life, do you become smug in your early birdness and start to terrorise your children for all the years of sleep pain they caused you?
I’m picking up my cliche badge soon, I’m such a tired parent. A tired almost 30 year old. Most days I look tired, if my face doesn’t look tired my appearance sure does. Scraped back (dirty) hair in some form of high pony/bun, paired with the same jeans I wear everyday and a top that is either ironed or clean – you can’t have both.
This morning I tapped the snooze button so much that I didn’t have time to get Jess dressed before I dropped her at my parents. I wrapped her in her housecoat, stuck some wellies on her and ran to the car…It was absolutely chucking it down (thanks Scottish summer) I had 3 bags, a toddler and her jacket all bunched up under an umbrella. Oh sorry, I forgot Jess was carrying a bowl of cereal as she didn’t have time to eat it. The cereal was dropped, naturally, and the child cried in utter heart break, naturally, while I was carting everything to the car – which was parked further from the house than it usually is – in horrendous, bouncing of the pavement kinda rain. Rain that stopped the second I got half naked, welly wearing, cereal loving, heartbroken child into the car. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I thought ‘Kirsty, look at the state of you. Your hair’s a mess love and you have mascara on your eyelid as per. You need a nap’.
I’m tired. So tired. I just want to sleep. For a week.
I’v been getting excited at the prospect of taking a Kalms or something similar, one weekend. Dave has agreed that I should do it, get a little Kalm action on the go. I’ll do it one night and he can do it another. Get Kalmed out our tits. Other people might dream about taking illegal drugs at the weekend, but I’m here for the Kalms. I don’t want to over do it though, it’s my first time. I’ll take it easy. Just half a Kalms, keep it cool, don’t want to sleep past 10am on my first go.