I know it’s a combination of sleep deprivation, the fact it’s “that time of the month” and the events of the year to date, but it just feels like there’s too much going on right now and I’m having a hard time coping.
Take last Thursday for example, Taters woke up at midnight
and refused to go back to sleep until 4:30am – that was four and a half hours
of him tossing and turning, fiddling with my ears, pulling my hair, kicking me,
intermittently crying, poking me in the eye and whatever else he could do to
keep me awake – it’s a form of torture I swear. This was the third night in a
row he’d done this so we were already shattered before the latest shenanigans
began. And when he finally fell asleep, well that’s when the snoring started up
courtesy of my husband. I felt rather murderous at that stage, especially since
I had to be up two hours later for a driving lesson.
Yes, a driving lesson in the rush hour traffic – hardly a
relaxing experience. Great for practicing clutch control and raising
your blood pressure and tremendously fun on two hours sleep I can tell you. All
that before I even got to work!
Work, ah work!, I work 3 days a week, I’ve got deadlines
coming out of my ears and we’re all still axe dodging here so the pressure go
the extra mile and put in 200% is massive. Sleep deprivation does little to
sharpen the mind and increase productivity and grabbing forty winks under my
desk really isn’t an option.
And Thursday afternoon of course we had the long awaited
appointment with the speech therapist (more about that later), so I had to cram
a days worth of work into one morning before I could jump on the bus to collect
Taters from Grandma’s house, then drag a grumpy, over tired two year old
through the hospital in time for his appointment.
Oh and I came on that morning too, so all this was with my
usual monthly migraine. Marvelous.
And that is pretty much standard right now. Around this I’m
trying to squeeze in revising for my theory test, swimming or some form of
exercise, plus I’m constantly drowning under the sea of cat hairs and brightly
coloured plastic toys that sing annoying tunes at me, I haven’t seen the bottom
of the washing basket in years and I can barely find room on the kitchen
surfaces to make tea because they’re covered in dirty dishes. I’m dogged with
guilt because my husband is writing a book and he obviously wants me to read it
and I feel like a crap wife because I can barely find the time. I’m also dogged
with guilt because I’m a crap friend who constantly forgets birthdays and can
barely remember what is going on with their lives. And then there’s the mother
guilt that I’m not full of energy to fill my son’s every waking moment with joy…
Then I think I can’t possibly have a second child because I’m
so pathetic I can hardly cope with one.
See it’s all “happy, happy, joy, joy” round here at the
moment.
(Apologies for spelling or general writing errors, I only got four hours sleep last night)
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