We had another fabulously ridiculous night last night.
DB2 opted for being pretty much fully awake (and grizzling, grunting, moaning and caterwauling) from about 12:30 onwards. Feeling as properly crap as I did, I went for lazily feeding him each time rather than bothering to attempt to settle him. This seemed to suit DB2 just fine, and suited me much better, being then free to throw my head back and continue snoring, rather than wearily patting DB2 whilst letting him suck the blood from my finger by power of osmosis. (seriously, my finger is starting to look quite eroded and tapered thanks to his frantic sucks.)
Honestly though, sleep deprivation is something that cannot be appreciated properly unless you actually experience it. It’s a bit like walking through your day on a strange conveyor belt, floating whimsically from event to event without really participating in anything, and trying not to be horribly alarmed that you can remember whole chunks of the day, even if it only happened a few minutes previously. You find yourself forgetting all sorts of words as well. Like ‘and’ and ‘the’. Instead, you end up staring slack jawed at people, hoping they will just…go away really. And not expect you to speak.
The ‘I’m too tired to speak’ approach doesn’t wash too well with DB1 though. Though he clearly quite enjoys it when, by virtue of our tiredness, we simply give into his pestering.
‘Can I can I have a cake?’
‘Can I can I please have a cake?’
‘Can I can I please have bit of cake?’
(bottom lip trembles and threatens to open into a full throated wail.)
‘P..p…please can I can I…’
‘YES. OK? For the love of god, YES. On the condition that you stop talking for a bit.’
Five seconds later.
‘Can I can I have my toys? Can you play with me?’
DB1 was absolutely making us crack up laughing earlier though. He’s developed this little song, which is actually rather catchy. It goes a little something like this:
‘I’M not a door. I’M not a road. I’M not a cow. I’M not a hook (WTF?? A hook??), I’M not a cow. I’M not a car. (and my personal favourite) I’M not the Dorchester.’ (was he perhaps referring to the hotel in London?)
The hilarity then continued with DB1 continuing to tell us all about the ‘anteaters’ on his toy moose. We were really quite perplexed for quite some time, before finally twigging that he was referring to the antlers. Ha ha!
And this, my friends, is the perk of having children. No one will ever make you laugh as much as your mental offspring. Even when DB1 decided to piss all over his toy mobile tonight, it was still quite amusing. (especially his plaintive announcement that he shouldn’t ‘wee on songs’.) Even DB2, at the tender age of 4 months, can be quite hilarious, even if it is just us childishly smirking at his farting. (plenty of opportunity for sniggering there, I can tell you. He’s quite the windiest baby I know.)
So it kind of makes the extreme tiredness worth it really…