Of sleep and beds.

I go to bed at the same time as the youngest.  It started off because I couldn’t be bothered to fight for my escape when he was much younger.  I did it with his sister at that age.  I was so fixated on my right to an evening that I’d spend hours trying to ninja my way out of the bedroom with her waking and falling to emotional pieces each time.  It wasn’t fun.  She’d get stressed and so would I until we’d both end up fraught with hot angry tears.  She was around 2 at this point and had a single bed in my room yet often bedshared part of the night.   If I ever did achieve the impossible escape with her remaining asleep I’d be too drained to do anything.

I refuse to leave a child crying.  I’m a mum.   Regardless of why they’re crying there’s still a reason even if that reason is just that they don’t want me  go.  I knew it wouldn’t last forever even if it felt like it would.

So with the youngest now I just decided to skip the fight and skipped all the anger, stress and resentment.  It was only supposed to be until he slept through.  Occasionally even me creeping out to pee would set his mummy radar to alert mode and I’d have to resettle him.  It  became hit and miss as to whether he’d wake or not and in all honesty I didn’t want to go down bad enough to chance it.

I have my phone, net book and kindle.   Hubz has the laptop and tv downstairs.  I know we probably should spend our evenings together but by the time I know the youngest is fully asleep and the elder two have gone too sleep I’m just too knackered and comfy!

It got to the point where I went down so rarely that hubz would assume he was on for one so there’d be this awful tension of  expectation in the air for me to do the old wifely duty. After all, why else would I possibly want to go  downstairs?

I admit it.  I fail at being a wife. I’m very undomesticated, a questionable cook and thanks to depression and M.E I have the libido of road kill.

For years I refused to leave the children so we haven’t had a night time date in about a decade.  Now they all sleep through we still don’t go out because of no money,  a mutual dislike of people in general and other such reasons or excuses or whatever you want to call them.

We spend all day together though.  Every day.

I know our life is usual and our marriage possibly unhealthy but I find it hard to motivate myself to change.  I guess I always assume we have the rest of our lives together yet our babies are babies for such short time.

It’s not just us.  I don’t go out full stop.  Anywhere.  With anyone. 

So anyway, I go to bed with the youngest.  Since being pregnant I’m actually usually asleep shortly after he is.  Pre-pregnancy I’d stay awake for hours reading etc but now? My eyes can’t wait to close.  Sleep pulls me under quick and hard like a good shag but with no exertion or wet patch.

Soon the little blonde head that curls against me will finally, literally a week or so before his fourth birthday, be in a room with a sibling once the redecoration is complete and hubz will be snoring down my ear and scratching me with stubble.  Or at least he will be until the baby arrives. 

Obviously it will be nice.  It’s been missed.  It’s the normal done arrangement.  It will be nice to sleepily chat about random crap and spoon.  It’s just hard to miss something you haven’t had for so long until you actually have it again. 

I’ll miss the youngest though.  Even though he does sometimes kick me in the head and hog the bed and faff something rotten before he even contemplates settling down. 

Last night as we lay in the dark with the rain lashing at the windows he momentarily cuddled against me.  He was literally on the very ebb of sleep when he said. …


Then he rolled over and fell fast asleep.

With my heart safe in his pudgy fist.

The rain still lashed against the windows yet it was accompanied by that gentle lullaby of his breaths.


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