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    Bleary eyed I fumble for the alarm clock, desperately willing the hands to at least be pointing to the 12 and 6. Please, God, please… but no, only an hour has passed since I last woke. With a big sigh and trying to open my eyes as little as possible I reach for my dressing gown, discarded on the floor from my last wake up call, and stumble towards the bathroom light peeping through the crack in the half open door.

    This is my usual night time routine. Disjointed dreams, frantic searches for dummies and tripping over washing piles on the landing. Invariably I wake with a new bruise or injury from walking into the bed, stubbing my toe on the door or hitting my head on a low shelf. I spend a few hours every night swaying, rocking, ‘sshhh-ing’ and crying, propped up in bed feeding while doing a nodding dog impression.

    I wouldn’t mind if every night was the same-at least my body could adjust but my darling boy likes to keep me guessing…1 feed or 2, teasing me one night with a golden 4 hour stretch of sleep only to then the next night wake hourly. My frustrations only increase when I hear a cry of ‘mummy’ from the room next door or an irritating knocking on the wall*… yeah, why not, lets all get up change beds and wake up in the morning somewhere different to where we went to sleep naively hopeful for a ‘ better night’.

    I do have a point here…I’m not just venting at you…you see somewhere in me I know I must savor this experience. Undoubtedly a lack of sleep brings out my worst qualities – whereby I have to use up any energy I have got suppressing my inner impatient shouty mum. but somehow this¬† night season experience is precious. This morning I got to enjoy¬† the dawn chorus and watch the sunrise with my children. I tried to embrace the fact that we were awake- tried being the right word! It’s a matter of mindset-my reality at present is that I am probably going to be awake more of the night than not. I get extra cuddles with my babies, they let me rock them to sleep, desperate for me to snuggle in bed with them so they can wrap their arms around my neck. I get to hear the wind howling and prowling around the house while we are safe inside. The midnight rain lashing against the window while I whisper words of sleep to my son – willing it to come with every ounce of my being. I still felt despair at 7 am this morning- I have a long way to go till I fully embrace the night season. No one told me it would be this hard, but no one told me it could be this precious either. As I watch over my littles tonight- knowing that the best for them (whether they agree or not!) are dreams and sleep, I pray that my efforts will be rewarded for that when they wake they will ‘move mountains’ tomorrow.

    Be encouraged and keep going x

    At least she managed to catch up on her sleep today!


    * In an attempt to try and reduce the shouts of ‘ mummy’ we advised our eldest to knock once on the wall instead. This was a bad move as we now get woken by persistent knocking at any time of night!

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