I can’t sleep when my kids are gone. I’m on day two or three of a mini-break from the children–they are with Mama visiting their Nana and Papa–and I need them to return so I can get a proper night’s rest. It might seem odd considering that B and G both produce a lot of noise during the wee wee hours–it’s not unusual for one or both to wake up crying at some point–but I can’t doze without the sounds they make.
Part of it is living in an overly quiet suburb. I like being in the city where you can hear car doors slamming or a late night driver whiz by, not the still of the night where the creaks of the house mingle with your own breathing. Part of it is that I’m an extreme chicken and have been ever since my father subjected me to episodes of The Twilight Zone with Talky Tina when I was only four.
I think most of the problem, though, is that I am an incomplete organism without my two little boys. They are like my appendages at this point, I really don’t know what to do without them, and I feel this most acutely in the dead of night, when there are no diversions available. B and G, I need you to come back home.
I like to talk about how exhausted I am as a result of staying home with toddler B and baby G, and it is tiring, sometimes it even seems like they are little parasites that live to just suck off my life-force, but it is nothing like what their mother goes through. She heads off to work five days a week, then comes home and has to deal with the kids and me (usually beat down and cranky after spending the day with her … Uh, our children) for the next four or five hours until the wee ones go to bed. The next couple hours are hers, usually she just vegetates in front of the TV, and then the real work begins because both boys rely on her throughout the night.
Understandably, Baby G needs to suckle but then B frequently wakes and wants to know where she is and demands that she sleep with him (he wants nothing to do with me). Sometimes that is in our bed, at other times in his tiny IKEA one. This week has already been rough. Monday night, it seemed that B and G were conspiring to keep her from rest as they took turns waking up on the hour every hour. Then Tuesday night, around 2:30, B woke up screaming like he was demon possessed and it took a while for both of us to talk him down. By then, G was fully awake and making baby sounds that would normally be cute but not at that point. Then last night, B woke screeching again but because he’d peed himself she had to help him change. Worse, baby G was congested all night so she had to repeatedly get up to clear his nasal passages so he could eat, or just sleep. Except for my assistance Tuesday night, I usually wake up but then just roll over and drift back to unconsciousness, saving up my energy for the next day. No such luck for Mama.