I have entered the zone. The sleep deprived place where only the parents and carers of babies go.
Once in the zone nothing else matters. Even Big Brother is only vaguely exciting me. (however, live streaming on E4 might be a godsend.) Operation "sleep or I'll die" is in progress.
I was beginning to think that my second child was peculiarly precocious. Thankfully, he is no more compliant than my firstborn
Thank crikey for obsessive blogging whilst in the zone. This has settled a long running dispute with my husband. He is convinced that Ezra was born aged 2 and never had a sleepless night in his life. The rest of us remember the nights filled with screams and wails- and baby Ezra made quite a lot of noise too.
I have cracked under the weight of constant breast demands and have forced a dummy into my babies life. So shoot me- I'll deal with that issue when I'm less tired.
I am also planning on introducing three square meals in the next few days. If that doesn't work- its eggy bottles all the way*
*(you'll have to ask Jo about eggy bottles.)
4 comments:
Oh yes, this is all too horribly familiar. Except for the bit about eggy bottles.
Oh you poor, poor thing. Take them to your mother's and have a night or a weekend off.
Oh, Kate- I'd love to, but there's a whole other story there.
Sleep..... sleep...? Remind me.
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