I made a promise to myself about 3 months ago that I wasn’t going to bitch to you about the brain sapping exhaustion that goes hand in hand with mini-me munchkins. No one wants to read endless tomes about endless nights that culminate into endless exhaustion…..and I would say I’ve fairly well kept said promise, but I gotta break it….I just gotta…….cos I just gotta ask you guys –
Does anyone know anything about some kind of developmental brain fart that goes down at about 16 weeks?
WTF IS UP WITH THIS NOCTURNAL INSANITY?
Everything was going swimmingly. I was actually even bragging about Kiki’s sleep habits just a few weeks ago and now?
My bragging has bitten me on the butt and I have officially had the life sucked out of me by a be-dimpled, gurgling, zombie-maker.
I heard someone recently call it the four-month regression, but frankly, I don’t feel as though it’s a regression but she has never been as crapola at sleeping as she is at this present moment.
We’ve gone from a respectable two feeds a night, to a depressing three feeds, four other times of patting and shooshing and a sneak her into bed in the wee hours of dawn in an effort to get just a little bit of sleep before boy child awakens at dawn’s crack for a day of whirling dervish.
I feel as though the expression should be less ‘Sleeps like a baby’ and more ‘Sleeps like a crack-head going cold turkey’.
After 11 months of no sleep with D Man, I called in a Sleep Angel (as I wrote about here) and I’m wondering if the same action is required shortly, or am I just panicking?
I was so determined not to make the same mistakes, but have I unwittingly done so by soothing those cries, amplified by darkness, with the breast, or do I just hatch inherently scheisse sleepers?
I read an interesting blog post from Heart Mama about babies learning to sleep and she suggests that we should adjust our expectations of baby sleep and just leave them to their own devices, and they’ll get it eventually.
I think that sounds really beautiful, and organic, and gentle, but how many months of waking every hour, or half hour, or ten minutes do you struggle through before you decide enough is enough? Or do you just ride it out?
I’ve heard horror stories of kids not sleeping through the night still at 4, 5 and 6 years of age. Not going to bed nicely when they’re in school, or still waking multiple times…..oh god, kill me now. Just something fast, like a knitting needle through my ear.
It’s true that I have never met a grown up who still cried for mummy in the night…..I reckon they’re out there though.
Sleep deprivation is unquestionably a form of torture.
Sleep deprivation is used by torturers because it makes a person more suggestible, reduces psychological resistance and it reduces the body’s capacity to resist pain. Sleep deprivation can cause impaired memory and cognitive functioning, decreased short term memory, speech impairment, hallucinations, psychosis, lowered immunity, headaches, high blood pressure, cardiovascular disease, stress, anxiety and depression, according to Gretchen Borchelt, JD & Christian Pross, MD in ‘Systematic Use of Psychological Torture by US Forces’, Torture, vol.15(1), 2005
(It forgot to mention car accidents)
Around here, Kiki, the cooing torturess, tortures me by night, and in turn, I torture Mister H and D Man by day with my consummate case of the irrits.
I do think that Kiki is still too young for sleep training, but I also know that 6 more months of this and my mind may be permanently bent, if not broken, and I will certainly be the size of a house, due to munching for energy.
I was trying to hang some washing out the other day and Kiki was screaming her little lungs out in the lounge……it was a beautiful day so the house was all open and I’m guessing you could hear her on the street, perhaps even in a neighbouring suburb.
Why am I guessing this, you ask?
Because a complete stranger came up to my gate and yelled out to me.
“Excuse me, do you have a baby?”
No, it’s a freaking dolphin making that noise in my lounge room, I thought. My narkiness is at an all time high when my sleep is at an all time low.
“I do” I replied, eyebrows raised as though in a dare.
“I think it’s crying”
No shit. To add insult to injury she looked at me like, by leaving Kiki crying for a minute while I hung out the washing, I was a child abuser.
Instead of being grateful, my tired, cranky-panted self wanted to throw something at her, but all I had in my hand was Mister H’s cycling shorts. I somehow don’t think they’d have quite the effect I was looking for. Instead, I gave a smile that probably looked look I was trying to swallow a cat turd and thanked her.
“Thank you, yes, I can hear her”
I was so cranky with her, like it was her fault I was deathly tired, or that Kiki’s lung exercises were reverberating inside my brain. She hightailed from my gate pretty quickly. I think she may have got the vibe that cycling shorts to the head were, although not scary, imminent.
I love how everyone gives you the advice to sleep when the baby sleeps. Sometimes I even plan to, but you know what? Babies, and toddlers, have an innate sense of comedic timing. The very second you slip off your shoes, your head hits the pillows and your weary bones emit a little sigh of relief then one or t’other is up and at it.
Or the guy across the road starts his leaf blower. Or I remember something I forgot to do….like turn off the stove.
Tiredness is akin to temporary retardation. I forget words mid-sentence, leave the TV remote in the freezer, and doze dangerously whilst having an evening bath.
Anyway, I shan’t go on and on and on, I just wanted to have a little vent and ensure the whole world gets it when I say,
Find out what it means to me,
Oh, I’m cranky
Oh,(sock it to me, sock it to me) a little fatigued.
Yeah,(sock it to me, sock it to me) a little fatigued.
Possibly a tad delirious, too, me thinks???
Can’t imagine another reason I’d be channeling Aretha.