The need for sleep

There are occasions when I think this blog must be marking one mans slow decline towards madness following limited and disturbed sleep. Then I remember that my wife gets less than I do and start feeling guilty. Then I remember we're both knackered and just feel sorry for us both.

Whether it's seperation anxiety, a growing awareness of the dark, or just the loss of the ability to soothe herself back to sleep, my daughter is not sleeping through. Not even nearly. 3 weeks ago we could get her down for 8 in the evening, and not hear a peep until 8 the next morning. Now, it takes a huge effort to get her down for 9ish (last night it was 21:30 after a drive around Berkshire) and she's up again at around 01:45. What happens then is down to the fates. Placating may be possible. Feeding may be required. Worst case (usual case) is to bring her into bed in the spare room, feed her to sleep, and soothing strokes if she stirs.

In all cases, a broken nights sleep is guaranteed.

My wife is fantastic. During the week, she will be the one who gets up, and retires to the spare room with the distressed little bundle. This allows me to roll over and go back to sleep; stiring at each squeak, but generally getting some rest. At weekends, I do what I can. Fetching, carrying, soothing. I'm not really adding anything, just relieving a little of the burden.

It's now Thursday, of a short week, and I'm tired beyond belief. I have another day of meetings ahead, and somehow I'll get through. I always do. Something kicks in during the commute, keeps me going, and drops off later in the evening. The crash! I'm good for nothing then. Last night I couldn't stand properly; everything needs breaking down into small tasks. I'm surprised me wife doesn't give up on me, but she doesn't. She understands. She's great!

Ever onward. Another day, my penultimate one as a contractor. Just don't tell me "It's just a phase". It doesn't help.

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