Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Mummy fail #378 and #379

My brain died exactly one hour before I went to bed last night and despite having the best intentions in the world to add a post to this here blog, I couldn’t think of anything to say.
Alby was keen to ensure that my dry-spell didn’t last long however and so, kindly, on the basis of providing me with inspiration, rolled himself out of bed at 5am landing with a bump.
Followed by a yell. And plenty of tears.

There’s an awful lot of research about the connection between mothers and babies when sleeping and I believe all of it.  From a state of deep sleep I was and aware of Alby falling before he hit the ground.  This is the second time Alby has fallen from our bed in the night and my stomach and heart lurched as much on this occasion as they did before.  I clasped him to me and whispered my apology again and again and again until the tears calmed and sleep was restored. 
Why do I keep co-sleeping now that Alby can roll?  Well, for totally selfish reasons really.  When Alby wakes in the night I walk into his room as a zombie, pick him up, bring him into the bed, feed him and we sleep together.  When we wake in the morning I have no recollection of when I brought him into the bed or which of us fell asleep first.  I don’t even remember going to get him. 
If I could get myself to bed earlier each night then I would probably have more wherewithal to change it and that is the end goal, but my efforts so far in that area have been found wanting.  In this respect at least I’m hoping that Christmas followed by Mark’s R&R will help to break these bad habits but I have to accept they won’t change over night.

The other mummy fail actually came before the bed falling incident.  As Alby has been poorly this week he’s been staying home rather than heading into nursery.  As I was typing away at my computer yesterday I suddenly realised that he wasn’t fiddling with the DVD player as I thought.  Nor was he in the kitchen upturning Percy’s water bowl.  He was in my bedroom pulling books and papers off Mark’s bedside cabinet.  Little Trouble Monkey had walked from the living room to the stairs, climbed the stairs and then walked into our room for a play upstairs. 

Mummy fail extraordinaire in having kept the stair gates open.  Honestly, considering what he has been through in the past 24hours it’s a wonder he’s still alive.

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