Riddle me this. What is 4 and a half months old, weighs less than an average sized dog, yet has the suction power of a full sized, top of the range Dyson?
Another riddle. What is supposed to require 3-4 hours of sleep in a day, but seems to get by on a quarter of that? (in addition to waking gleefully at all hours of the night.)
And the final one. What seems to enjoy screaming its head off for hours, fidgeting, throwing itself around in abject misery, hitting parents in the face etc, rather than actually just giving in and going to sleep?
It’s DB2, in case you hadn’t twigged. DB2. DB2, who requires my finger wedged firmly in his small, cross gob, to even consider nodding off to sleep. Whose eyes immediately pop open with indignant outrage the very moment the finger is edged out by so much as a milimetre. Who, once asleep, will quite merrily start thrashing round about twenty minutes later, generally just as I’ve started work. Who refuses to sleep unless it is absolutely completely necessary. Sleep is not an enjoyment to DB2. Or even to DB1, come to mention it. It is simply an annoying and brief break from playing, hollering, and being as monkeyish as possible.
What is doubly annoying (in case you’ve not guessed, DB2 is lying on my lap right now, finger in mouth) is that, every time he falls asleep, as if on cue, I get an irritating urge to cough. A really annoying tickly cough as well, that means that you can’t just do a little cough and get away with it- oh no. Nope, I’m talking full on barking and spluttering for at least a minute. Which of course, results in DB2 waking up straight away.
How I hate and LOATHE parents who can simply pop their babies into their beds and that’s it, baby sleeps for a couple of hours. I’ve NEVER had that. DB1 stopped napping at 14 months (after enjoying a solitary 3 months of sleeping properly in the day. Yep. That was it.) DB2 seems to be very much following in the same footsteps. Every day is the same, an endless battle to convince him that sleeping is actually quite a nice thing, and one that makes us feel better, rather than fighting it and concluding the day with two hours shattered screaming and thrashing.
I don’t believe it. He’s just been sick on me.
(10 minutes later- both of us now cleaned up.)
Unbelievable. He woke up, sat on my lap and then puked all over me. I now stink of pukey milk. DB2 had the sheer audacity to laugh. Yes, he actually sat on my lap, vomit hanging from his lip and pooling in big grainy chunks all over his body and my jeans, and he laughed.
Hmm. I have a horrible sneaking suspicion that my sons are colluding against me, to see who can wind me up the most. Damn them for being cute!
(10 mins later again).
He was just sick again. All over the bed. So now, even the place I fancy retreating to most reeks of sick now.
I officially hand in my resignation.