It shouldn’t be actresses, models or TV ‘stars’ on the cover of magazines – it should be mums. We are so freaking fabulous we deserve people to gasp when they see us. We should be sent free handbags, be placed at the best tables in restaurants and have treats showered upon us.
This morning I woke up thanks to a headbutt from the three year old I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to get back into the habit of sleeping in his own bed. My eyes were puffy from crying at 4am when his endless screaming, kicking tantrum broke me. My curly hair was a fuzzy mess from tossing and turning my six-months-pregnant bulk. I spent the morning in a daze and was so pathetically grateful when my husband handed me a lovely salad for lunch that I burst into tears. Again.
This cannot continue. I am not this woman.
I have been Googling. I cannot understand why my son has turned into a screaming banshee just because we took him on holiday and he had to sleep in a few different places.
So far the reasons I’ve come up with are:
1 he’s acting up because I’m pregnant
2 he’s having tantrums because he can’t express himself verbally and he wants to be in our bed
3 he’s having night terrors
4 he’s asserting his independence
5 he’s overtired
6 he’s going through a growth spurt
Well, I can’t do anything about number 1 or 6.
Number 2: yes, but too bad, he’s not getting his way.
3: OK, apparently the way to deal with this is to note when these happen, wake him ten mins before with a drink and reset the sleep pattern. [sigh].
Number 4, yes I understand that, and it’s probably linked to number 5, so I will redesign the bedtime routine slightly.
I’m also aware that letting him come into bed with us at 6.15am, after resolutely returning him to his bed twice or three times during the night, is probably confusing matters. My reasoning is, at 6.15, I only have two options: Get up for the day or Bring him in where he’ll fall asleep immediately, sleep for two or three more hours and be much more manageable for the rest of the day.
I mean, what would you do?
I am already dreading tonight. My patience is shot to hell. I’m tired. I’m pregnant and therefore overly emotional. I’m also back at work tomorrow. But I will dredge up some strength from the depths of my bruised soul and just have faith that this too shall pass.
If anyone wants to send me a handbag as an incentive, I’d be most grateful.