This is for anyone who thinks about sleep 24/7. Who wakes up in the morning and wonders when they can have a nap. Who is knackered by 9.15 AM.
Remember when you and your friends used to talk about how much sex you were (or weren’t) having?
Now, do you find yourselves talking about sleep instead?
Lack of it. Desire for it. What you miss about it.
Getting 8 hours sleep is the equivalent of having sex twice a week.
‘I got 8 hours last night,’ says someone.
Gasps all round.
Last night I was so knackered that I fell asleep several times during the Tesco shop. The online shop I should add. Not in the actual store. That would have been embarrassing.
This means that I now have to figure out how to make a lamb tagine with 16 Twix bars and a can of chickpeas. Because that’s what turned up this morning. After I fell asleep before ordering the rest of the ingredients.
I am going to call it Twix Tagine.
Who’s coming for dinner?
Asleep with your eyes open.
If I’m not tired when I wake up (I can’t remember when this last happened), I’m tired by about 9.15 AM.
And at 9.17 AM I’m definitely planning what time I can get away with a nap.
It doesn’t matter if the baby sleeps at night. If everyone sleeps at night. If I sleep at night. I’m still knackered. And I may nod off at any time.
It’s like a child induced form of narcolepsy.
That should be an actual condition.
None of this is my fault.
The impact of this exhaustion is huge.
Aside from the Twix Tagine, it leads me to do the following:
a) Parent inconsistently (lack of sleep affects memory so I can’t remember what I did or said 5 minutes earlier)
b) Issue empty threats (because I have no energy to see them through. My personal best is 37 empty threats BEFORE breakfast).
c) Consume chocolate biscuits by the hundreds (which is presumably why I’ve ended up with 16 Twixes and no lamb).
Did I say that NONE of this is my fault?
Remember when your mum told you that nice girls don’t sleep around?
Well, bed-hopping has become a bit of a thing in our house. This morning, I woke up in Godivy’s bed. On my own. It took me a while to realise where I was. I couldn’t remember why, though.
Downstairs, Daddy Pig was in bed with Beaver AND Godivy. They didn’t know how they’d got there either.
I’m so glad we spent all that time reading Gina Ford.
It’s clearly paid off.
Is it bedtime yet?
At around 5.00 PM I’m doing two things. Drinking. And wondering how I’m going to get through the next two hours. Until the kids go to bed.
Then I remember.
Drinking is how I am going to get through the next two hours.
Once the kids are in bed, I’m finally free to sleep. The moment I have been waiting for ALL day.
So what do I do? I stay up. I watch Neighbours. And any other crap I can find. I waste hours on Facebook and Twitter. Tweeting about how knackered I am. Erm.
Oh. And I invent fabulous new recipes.
Twix Tagine. I’m telling you, it’s going to be a hit.