Sleep deprivation and Monday morning blues
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either Grace nor Joshua would go to sleep on Sunday night.
Instead of feeling like the mother of a toddler and a six-year-old, I felt like the mum of two wailing newborns and honestly, I didn’t know what to do. It was like we were the only three people on the face of the planet not sleeping at that moment.
With my husband away for the weekend, I didn’t even have the luxury of performing the relay we became accustomed to when the kids were infants.
It all came down to me and nothing I did could convince them to settle down.
Endless wails, requests for glasses of water and demands for cuddles filled the early hours of Monday morning.
Horrified that it was 3am and neither of my children had shut their eyes for more than thirty minutes, I wondered how either of them would possibly manage to function the next day. I then began to wonder how I would possibly struggle through my weekly Monday Morning Meeting. The MMM is enough to bring me out in a stress rash even after a full eight hours so I couldn’t comprehend giving a presentation and answering to my manager through a fog of exhaustion.
I felt like I was treading through treacle as I made my umpteenth trip across the landing to demand quiet.
As the clock slowly ticked towards 5am, I made a decision.
I was not going to work and neither of my children were going to school or creche. Shocked by my out-of-character resolution, I soon found myself relaxing as I came to terms with my decision. The more I relaxed, the more the kids relaxed. The less I demanded quiet, the less they quibbled. In hindsight, my panic and determination to get them to sleep did absolutely nothing to calm or settle them. Shocking.
I didn’t feel an ounce of regret when I turned off my alarm at 7am. In fact, I didn’t feel anything but relief as myself and my children, who had found their way into my bed, turned over and snuggled down again.
Because sometimes you have to step off the treadmill and remember the world can manage without you.
For one day, at least.
either Grace nor Joshua would go to sleep on Sunday night.Instead of feeling like the mother of a toddler and a six-year-old, I felt like the mum of two wailing newborns and honestly, I didn’t know what to do. It was like we were the only three people on the face of the planet not sleeping at that moment.
With my husband away for the weekend, I didn’t even have the luxury of performing the relay we became accustomed to when the kids were infants.
It all came down to me and nothing I did could convince them to settle down.
Endless wails, requests for glasses of water and demands for cuddles filled the early hours of Monday morning.
Horrified that it was 3am and neither of my children had shut their eyes for more than thirty minutes, I wondered how either of them would possibly manage to function the next day. I then began to wonder how I would possibly struggle through my weekly Monday Morning Meeting. The MMM is enough to bring me out in a stress rash even after a full eight hours so I couldn’t comprehend giving a presentation and answering to my manager through a fog of exhaustion.
I felt like I was treading through treacle as I made my umpteenth trip across the landing to demand quiet.
As the clock slowly ticked towards 5am, I made a decision.
I was not going to work and neither of my children were going to school or creche. Shocked by my out-of-character resolution, I soon found myself relaxing as I came to terms with my decision. The more I relaxed, the more the kids relaxed. The less I demanded quiet, the less they quibbled. In hindsight, my panic and determination to get them to sleep did absolutely nothing to calm or settle them. Shocking.
I didn’t feel an ounce of regret when I turned off my alarm at 7am. In fact, I didn’t feel anything but relief as myself and my children, who had found their way into my bed, turned over and snuggled down again.
Because sometimes you have to step off the treadmill and remember the world can manage without you.
For one day, at least.
