Someday I’ll sleep again

Sleep is one of the most underrated things in life. You don’t think about it and you take it for granted because it’s always there. Until it’s not. I used to think it was all a matter of mental strength. Pull 3 straight all-nighters in a row partying my guts out? No problemo. I’ll just make up for it the next day. Mind over matter.

Before I gave birth, every parent I met told me the same thing. Get as much sleep as you can now, because you will never sleep again. I was all like “Unlike you weaklings, I don’t actually need sleep. I’m like the Terminator. All I need is my doppio espresso and I’m good to go. Besides, I can always sleep when the baby is asleep.”

Now first of all, there is no such thing as sleeping when the baby sleeps. Their sleep patterns are about as predictable as a chick with PMS. Just when they fall soundly asleep and you think “here’s my chance” and snuggle up nice and comfy in your bed and allow yourself to drift off to dreamland, they suddenly pounce. Then you feel the cold, heartless hands of reality yank you back to a world where the baby is screaming and there is no rest for the weary. That is by far the most wretched feeling in the whole world.

So the next time, you down yet another shot of espresso and sit by the bed waiting for the baby to wake up. This time, I’m prepared, you tell yourself. And the baby decides it’s time to sleep for 5 hours straight. While you sit there with a bottle of warm milk in hand waiting for the crying to start any moment now. Only it doesn’t start. That is next most wretched feeling in the world.

After a few rounds of this happening, you lose it a little and start hearing voices in your head. Imaginary screams are a mother’s occupational hazard.

Your only chance of getting any sleep is at night, after the baby has learnt to sleep through the night. At first, you’ll be like “Woohoo00… 8 hours of night time sleep” and you’re doing your victory lap around the house thinking that your life will finally go back to normal. Except it doesn’t. 2 of those 8 hours will be spent expressing milk. And in the remaining 6 hours, they’ll surprise you with random cries just for the fun of it. “Aha, gotcha again, sucker! Now wake up and do back flips to amuse me because it’s the middle of the night and I need some entertainment to help me sleep.”

The result? Even when you do get to sleep, it’s a pathetic excuse for sleep. As a parent, you have to master the art of pseudo-sleeping. It’s far more painful to be rudely awakened from a deep sleep, the kind where you dream that you’re a James Bond on a mission to save the world. Eventually, you learn to sleep without really sleeping. You go into screensaver mode instead of shutting down.

As a reward for my services, the husband has valiantly agreed to send me on a 48-hour hibernation expedition. It will consist of me checking into the Ritz alone for 2 days just to sleep. There’s no way I’ll get any real sleep at home with the kids trying to pry open my eyelids and jabbing things into my ears.

I’m going to curl up in bed with a large cup of hot chocolate, read a nice book and do nothing but sleep for 2 whole days. It’s going to be awesome.