First time mum/referee/ sleeve snot wiper to a wild toddler. Designated household bum changer. Blogging about this motherhood malarkey from a refreshingly honest and unfiltered perspective.

Night Feeding Woes

Ah, the gold old night feeds; the literal destroyer of sleep.
Though, Arthur still wakes at least once each night and entertains my ever-growing caffeine addiction with a 5 am rise each, and EVERY morning, I remember those harrowing first few weeks well. The definition of sleep deprived, consistent two-hour feeds, and divorce papers at the ready (I'm joking!)

I narrowed the night feeds into stages:

Part 1 - Desire

As that precious, soundless little bundle cradled into his favourite cuddly toy, begins to stir, you remain lying absolutely still, as if paralyzed. Squeeze your eyes tightly shut and hope the overdose of lavender oil on the cot sheets and new bedtime routine will prevail. He fidgets, tosses, but continues to sleep. Hooray, hora!! Tonight's the night, the uninterrupted coma you desire awaits. 

Part 2 - Denial.

That, of course, was nothing more than reverie. You can honestly swear you JUST crawled into bed, you only just closed your eyes and drifted into an exhausted slumber. Yet baby is awake... again - beginning with sleepy coos and little hands waving to full on fussing and desperately attempting to thrash his way out of the tightly bound swaddle. Still you summarize, if you lie utterly immobile, baby will somehow take the hint and doze back off for forty winks.
He persists.

Part 3 - Deadlock.

Stalemate. You continue to lie there with peaking defeat on the horizon. Praying - no begging - for even just another twenty minutes but the loud splatter of a poo detonation in his nappy and the tomato tinged cheeks insists overthrow.

Part 4 -  Dismay.

With an accidental (honest) elbow in hubby's back as he doesn't so much as stir and you seethe with anger at his frustratingly *loud snores and his now confirmed talent of sleeping through the end of the world, you scoop baby out of the cot and begin the well-known routine of the half-asleep-messy-nappy-change and the buttoning up (why are there SO many buttons??) of the baby grow debacle as they writhe, squirm and wail in demand for their milk. 

*simple act of breathing

Part 5 - Devotion

He peers up and flashes his little smile. With big bright eyes and full, satisfied tum, he grips your finger and coos incessantly as you whisper to him just how perfect he is and how much you love him and you really don't mind the fact you only get forty-minute sleep intervals. Despite the shit bombs smeared all over your just freshly washed sheets and his perpetual wakening, the cuddles, smiles and love make it somewhat durable.

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