We have had a poorly Little Man this weekend. Lots of tears, general grumpiness and fitful sleep. The Boy didn’t know where to put himself and, by the end, neither did I. I was exhausted but still keeping up with all the daily chores, creating new items for MammaKnows…, taking care of my husband; you know the drill. When bedtime drew round, the sight of my peaceful child was absolute bliss.
This was not to last!
Cut to me: on the sofa, ungodly hour of the night, waiting for him to fall asleep again and working my way through the never-ending list of recently added rom-coms! Thank you T.V Gods for Netflix! As I sat there, watching him fight to keep his tiny eyes open, I thought over what I would remember for next time. Biggest lesson…ask for help!
Before I had eventually accepted that my attempts to put the Boy back to sleep were totally futile, I had looked over at my husband. I wanted to suffocate him with the damn pillow he was sleeping so soundly upon! I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have done it, but I was certainly considering my options 😉
Thinking about it after, something struck me…
how was he supposed to know I was desperate for help? I’m 99.9% certain my Newborn didn’t come with a side of telepathy! I can’t act as if I can cope all by myself, thank you very much, then be pissed off when he carries on as normal.
He saved himself, however, with offers to take over and by sending me back to bed the next day. I am lucky to have someone I can turn to and that he knows me well enough to see through my act!
Next time, though, I’m will be taking my own advice!
Even Superwoman has help!