When will I ever sleep again ?

Last year I went to visit a friend who moved to Cornwall for a change of lifestyle after a serious illness and miraculous recovery. She told me that now her kids are all adults and she doesn't work full time she and her husband sleep in and get up late, "like teenagers." Of all the things I was jealous of; the view of the gorgeous countryside, proximity to the beach, living in Cornwall, having the freedom to just up sticks and swap houses with someone. The one thing I was most jealous of was that when I got up early in the morning to get to my meeting she was still in bed and didn't have to get up. 

Now I'm back at work full time my alarm goes off at 5.30am most days. I run every other day in preparation for the half marathon I'm doing in October and often I just autopilot my way to work. An early start suits me as I can get in before anyone else, work in a quiet environment and relax into my day. Then I leave in time to pick up my boys from school / summer camp / clubs. What is also means is that by about 8.30 pm I'm shattered. 

I go to the theatre a fair amount. Shows begin around 7.30pm so I'm fine for the first half, but to be honest unless it's an amazing (or very loud) show I'm unlikely to make it through the whole thing awake. I can function most of they day. I have to. Then at night I should recuperate. I should go to bed early and rest in preparation for the early start. However, I find I have a to do list that hasn't been looked at, never mind attempted. When the boys were away this week staying with grandparents I did a full day at work, went for a training run, watched a show at the theatre and was hanging washing at 1am. Even the cat looked at me in disbelief. Being judged by the laziest creature in the house - harsh ! 

 

So what I want to know is when do I get to sleep again ? I stopped sleeping when I had Brown Bear, well you do don't you ? Then when Blue Bear came to live with us he has serious sleep issues so I was up with him numerous times in the night. Now they both sleep fine - well Blue does wake up, but he calls for Daddy so I'm off the hook. I still find myself waking up frequently and looking at the time. It's exhausting ! 

Do I have to wait until my boys leave home to sleep ? Will I have to live in the country ? Am I ever going to get a night of sleep and wake up refreshed rather than creaking and groaning and wishing I had gone to bed earlier ? 

Who knows. 

I'd better go upstairs now. I've probably got washing to put away or something. 

 

Bring on the night, bring on sleep.

My boys sleep through the night.

It's not always easy - sometimes it's a rigmarole with endless drinks of water, tucking in of teddy bears and philosophical discussions. In the end though it's a night of peace. 

If you don't have kids you will have no opinion about this. You might be kind and nod and say, "Oh that's good." As a parent you will either grit your teeth at the temerity of my boast or shrug and think, "well that hardly merits a blog post does it ?"

When Blue Bear first came to live with us he didn't sleep well. The first night both boys went to sleep by 8pm and Hubbie and I were fist bumping each other and thinking the top prize for parenting was ours for the taking. We were just about to sit down to eat and we heard a cry from Blue Bear. He was awake and he was not happy about it. For the next two hours we tried everything we could to get him back to sleep. I lay down with him, Hubbie lay down with him, we put on soothing music, we offered milk and eventually I did what I never did with Brown Bear. I put him in the car and drove around to try and soothe him. It was exhausting.

After that first night his nocturnal stirrings became a regular thing for us. We had set up the cot next to our bed and he slept next to me. Often he woke up crying, screaming, hitting out or reaching out for a dummy or a touch on his head to settle him. We found out he was terrified of the dark, so we put a light on for him. Over time he would turn to check I was still there and I'd feel a small hand reach out for me so I'd sleep as close to his face as I could so he would see me. 

We moved Blue Bear into his own room and when settling him to sleep one of us would lie on the floor next to his bed to reassure him he wasn't alone. I would put him down to nap during the day and have to lie down too. In fact the afternoon rest came as a relief after months of sleepless nights. 

The night waking became so regular that even Brown Bear - who has always been an early riser - started to sleep in. He would struggle to get up in the morning and was tired and tearful during the day. At times Blue Bear would scream because he's lost his dummy. Other times he'd be distressed and sitting up unable to express why he was so upset. Then if Brown Bear woke up we'd have two boys to try and get back to sleep. Some mornings both boys would be in our bed and Hubbie would be asleep somewhere else. He still had to go to work and do a full day on very little sleep.

I can't pinpoint when it changed. Maybe it was when we moved him out of a cot and into a toddler bed. He was able to get out by himself so maybe he didn't feel so confined. Brown Bear has a raised bed now and loves the fact that no one else can get up there, but him.

It was only in the last few days I realised that sometimes I have to go in and wake up Blue Bear. He sleeps soundly and wakes up smiling. I like to believe he knows where he is and is happy to be there. That he loves the teddy bears on his bed, the soft light in his room, the plaintive miaowing from Neo to be let out or fed. Brown Bear wakes up early, but plays with lego or goes downstairs to eat breakfast with Daddy before he leaves for work.

Yes there are still nights when Blue Bear wakes up, but he goes back to sleep pretty quickly and without me having to drive him around the neighbourhood.  

At one time it felt like it would never end - like we'd never get through it. But we did.

So when I say that my boys sleep through, please believe that it's not a boast. It's a relief.

Grr, I'm a sleepasaurus

I'm typing this post with one hand - yes be impressed, its not easy. With the other hand I'm holding the cat's paw - he's asleep with his head hanging off the sofa and I'm thinking if he slips I can stop him falling off. Ok, you're not impressed any more are you ? It's alright for him - he spends more hours asleep than awake and when the kids are annoying he just leaves the house. I wish I could do that.

At the moment I'm sleep deprived to the point of hallucination and every screech from either of my boys or the cat sets my teeth on edge. I'm annoyed all the time and so clumsy it's not even funny. I have to double check I'm wearing actual shoes when I leave the house these days. I've developed that phantom hearing where I am convinced I can hear the sound of my kids even when the whole house is asleep and I'm not. How is it that when we're tired it's so difficult to actually fall asleep ?

Anyway, I've been forcing myself to go to sleep earlier every night to counteract the waking up to a screeching infant at 3am and 5am. Last night just before I peeled myself off the sofa to go to bed with a book that I never actually read I saw a link to this song. I played it and it took me back to my uni days - when sleep deprivation was voluntary. I have no memory of how it feels to have the luxury of choosing to stay up late and not having to wake up at dawn to attend to the needs of two boys, a cat and a husband. Mind you at this point I have no memory of what I ate for breakfast.

So, as I carry my sorry and tired self up to bed early I leave you with this little tune - with a warning that there is some language that you may not want your kids to hear in this.

Enjoy :)

zzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Happiness is...

Neo's idea of bliss

I watched my boy come into the room where we had his surprise party on Sunday and he stopped and stood just taking it in. Then he spotted me and ran over and gave me the biggest hug and his face broke into an enormous smile as all his little classmates ran over to hug him and wish him a happy birthday.

We've been planning this party for weeks now and it was like a military operation. I woke up on Sunday morning with an aching back and a long list of things still to do. All of that faded away as I saw him running wildly around with his friends playing games and enjoying himself.

It reminded me that I have to stop and take time to look around sometimes and remember the tiny things that make me smile and feel warm inside. Things like:

• Climbing into the 'marshmallow bed' - the winter duvet newly unpacked and fluffed and the thick mattress topper that makes lying in the bed feel like being enveloped by a massive marshmallow.

• Wearing one of Hubbie's jumpers or sweatshirts that's way too big for me - tucking my feet under and make a cocoon to get cosy in.

• Showing my boy photos or videos of when he was a baby and his asking what he was like 'back then,' like it was donkeys years ago.

• Catching the cat and the boy asleep on the sofa together, or watching TV or in the kitchen nabbing treats while they think I'm not looking.

• Waking up to find my son asleep next to me and wandering downstairs looking for Hubbie only to discover him watching baseball with the cat sitting next to him.

• Making a cup of tea and settling down to drink it while the boy is at school and Hubbie is at work - more than that, actually managing to finish the whole cup while it's still hot (ok, warm then).

• Sitting inside in the warm listening to the rain outside pattering onto the windows and knowing there is nowhere I have to be other than where I am.  

and of course my personal favourite 

• Going for a swim and having the whole pool to myself - bliss !  

So the next time the cat is sick in the house (like he was this morning) or Hubbie annoys me (like he did yesterday) or my boy is driving me spare (well, just don't ask !!) I'll remind myself of these lovely things and pop the kettle on. 

Oh Captain, My Captain.

The sad news about Robin Williams' death on Monday was accompanied by talk about his 'battle with severe depression.' I didn't know him so I can't possibly know how it felt for him or how he dealt with his depression, but I'm sad for his family and for those who did know him.

It does seem that his untimely death has opened up the public conversation about depression and how to live with it. I don't say 'cope with it' as I'm not sure I, or anyone else, does, but I know that I live with it. Depression is a constant in my life and one that has taken most of my life to learn to live with. As part of the general conversation about what being depressed can be like here is my take on it. Please accept this with the proviso that we all have different ways of feeling and managing and at times 'not coping.' These are the things that help me, they may work for you, they may not. I offer them here in the spirit of openness and honesty.

Fake it to make it: 
I smile, I make nice, I meet friends, I post happy photos on Facebook and make jokes on Twitter. It's not that I'm lying about how I feel, but sometimes you just don't need sympathy or empathy or platitudes. You just want to act like it's all ok. Also, when you're around a small child all day there are few opportunities for self -reflection or being morose, so there is a kind of enforced jollity that you find yourself employing. There can be few things more heartbreaking than a toddler asking "why are you so sad Mummy ?" and not having an answer.

Keep on moving: 
I have to exercise every day. If I don't I get agitated as all the anxiety courses around my body and my ability to deal with every day life becomes fraught. The irony is - of course - that with depression can come almost crippling exhaustion so I am constantly forcing myself to go to the swimming pool or to put on trainers to go for a run or a walk. I would much rather lie down on the sofa and try and sleep, but I know that exercise acts as a dopamine hit and for a moment it feels ok. It may not last, but to not exercise is just not an option for me.

Eat well, Sleep well:
I find that I either over or under eat when I am depressed. It isn't an exact science so I can't possibly say what will help me. Some days I want to eat lots of bread others I want chocolate and some days I don't eat for hours and I'm not hungry. I know that I should eat regularly or I feel horrid and that I must drink lots of water to feel well. Instead I often spend an entire day carrying round a full bottle of unopened water and lots of fruit. Then there is the sleep issue. I can be flat out dead on my feet tired and still not sleep. Or I'll get up at an unearthly hour, feed the cat, the goldfish and then go back to bed and fall asleep again for another few hours unaware of the time. There is no 'normal' for me and I'm sure that is not unusual.

Make space: 
Just as I try and keep company and be sociable I know that sometimes I need space. This means asking for help and I don't do that very well. Whether it is asking Hubbie to take the boy out so I can have some quiet time or asking family if they can have him overnight I am only just becoming able to do this. At it's worst a few weeks ago I wanted to take myself away and out of all of it. There are times when a bit of room and nothing to do just makes it all feel different. Not necessarily better, but different and that is ok.

Know who to tell: 
There are people who can hear you be honest and those who just can't. I know who these people are. Last week I spoke for a long time to a friend who I've known for almost 25 years (yes J, it's been that long !) about how it all felt. I spent a lot of the call in tears. In the time we've been friends we've been through and talked about our: 4 marriages, 2 divorces, many miscarriages, post-natal depression, love affairs and indiscretions.

Between us we now have 4 healthy, happy children and we are totally honest with each other - to the point of being beyond embarrassment when asked anything. If I ask J to be honest with me she will be. I do the same for her. It's not easy and it means there are periods of time when we just don't talk for a while as there is a lot to process and we know the conversation will be raw and the questions will be unavoidable. Just having even one person who will not judge when you tell them about the awfulness that is you makes a world of difference.

Knowing who not to tell:
Either because they will judge, or offer unwanted advice or just not listen. I shared a house at uni with 'friends' who sat me down for a chat/intervention and one of them harangued me to tell them "what is wrong with you ?" This neither inspired me to share, nor made me feel it was safe to with such a cold and unfeeling audience. Sometimes you want to spare other people's feelings and not worry them that you can't cope. Most days are functional and fine - some are difficult and require effort. Telling some people that you feel depressed might lead them to picture a neglected infant and to over-react. No-one wants that.

It's not going anywhere: 
Trying to pretend it will all go away and not be there any more is at best a wild dream and at worst a delusion. There is nothing wrong with being depressed. It's not who you are, it's how you are feeling. I've been feeling this for nigh on 33 years and there are times when I believe that it's just part of who I am. It isn't. I can't magically make it go away, but I can do my best to manage how I live through it. It is, however, persistent and always just there waiting to make itself known. Accepting that this is real and owning it is not giving in, it is ensuring that I am able to live with it.

Feelings are ok: 
I spend an inordinate amount of time telling myself not to be angry, or upset or to 'try and be normal' - whatever that is.  Don't punish yourself for having feelings. There are times when it seems like I feel too much, or I feel everything and am not able to disassociate from what is outside my head. Hearing the news at the moment is very difficult for me as I feel angry, sad, upset, powerless and this becomes overwhelming. I'm not alone in that, but if the feelings make you want to harm yourself or others then it's time to tell someone how you feel. That's not easy, I'm not saying it is, but you have to try.

Always look on the bright side:
Ok, this one is partly tongue in cheek. I succumb to such black clouds of depression that I really can't see anything else. While on holiday the boy was having a wonderful time and watching him I appreciated how lucky we are to have him and that he is active, healthy and cheerful. I wasn't always feeling things or wanting to be involved, but I did them anyway. Maybe somewhere along the line in the future I'll have a memory that might feel positive and happy, even if I wasn't happy while it was happening. I might feel it in hindsight because the depressive moods don't remain so photos and mementoes are really valuable reminders of what happened rather than what I was feeling.

I hope that something here might help someone else. I'm not an expert, I'm just another person living with depression and willing to talk about it. 

If you would like professional support here are some links you might find useful:

Mind - Mental Health charity

Rethink Mental Health Charity

Samaritans


I wish you the best of luck.

Wake me up before you ..... zzzzzzzzzzzz

For those too young to get the reference

Sleep. Who can honestly say they get enough of it ?

I know when I was a callow youth it was a competition to live on the least sleep. This was in the days when the PM apparently ruled on only 4 hours. This explains why she was such a callous dictator. It wasn't actually government policy it was that she'd been sleep deprived for so many years having had twin babies that she never slept a full night again and was permanently cranky. See Meryl Streep didn't pick up on that little character point did she ? Oscar back please. Thank you.

Anyway, I digress, I know shocker. I survived on very little sleep at Uni partly because I didn't want to miss anything. I'd stay until the end of a party or be with the last to leave the bar and work into the small hours then wake up early to go for a swim or to get books to the library. It explains why I regularly nodded off on a Monday morning during Trevor's 4 hour history lecture - to be fair it was about the crusades - I'm yawning thinking about it even now. Since then I can't sit in a lecture or speech without the heavy lidded spectre of narcolepsy hanging over me. Essentially I've survived on little sleep most of my life and taken a perverse pride in the achievement.

Until I had a baby that is.

Now competitive sleeplessness is a thing amongst parents. Not in the same, "Oh man I was so smashed did you see that last encore the Pixies did after midnight ? What, you left ? It was amaaaazing..." etc. way. No. It's the one topic that causes so much consternation in parenting circles as once sane adults try to outdo each other in the, "I haven't slept in .. days... weeks... months" stakes. I just can't partake in that nonsense.

Maybe I was especially good in my last life or something. I didn't have that. Our boy has always been a great little sleeper. He was two weeks over his due date as he wasn't in a rush to be born - chilled out as he was in there. Then as soon as he was born he promptly had a pooh on the midwives and went to sleep. I had to wake him up to feed him and took photos while he was awake.

This is how most people saw our boy

There are friends who never saw him awake for the first 6 months of his life. When I went to visit my lovely NCT teacher Wendy the boy nodded off in the pram on the way to the bus stop and stayed asleep all the way there and while I enjoyed two cups of tea, a homemade cupcake and a sit down. No one knew what colour his eyes were for months and they never heard him cry. Of course as soon as the wheels of his buggy touched the front steps of our house he woke up, but he had a feed and pretty much nodded off again. It was like living with a student.

During the night we co-slept so he took up the entire bed and I didn't really sleep much as we discovered early on that he slept on his front and as we're all told that is a no-no I would lie there listening to him breathe. We worked out he was being a cat and as his head was to the side he was fine. Of course poor Hubbie was back at work two weeks after the boy was born so he was the one who needed sleep. At times I'd send him to the spare room so he'd get some rest before going to work. He didn't want to leave us though.

In fact during the 2010 baseball season I'd breastfeed the baby then Hubbie would take him downstairs to watch the baseball on TV so I could sleep. I told you I must have accumulated some good karma that's been paid back in this life to get so lucky. The boy was clearly also a good luck charm as they watched the SF Giants romp to their first World Series victory in over 50 years.

With the exception of the colic months - that period of time when we took it in turns to rock the baby and soothe him while he screeched in pain - we've had it pretty good really. Which is why I'm a bit surprised at the turn it's taken in recent months where I wake up completely exhausted. Our boy goes to bed at a sensible time and sleeps right through until at least 6am which is later than Hubbie gets up to go to work. I, however, am welded to my pillow feeling like I've got a hangover. This isn't helped by a toddler running in shouting, "Mummy, I want to get dressed. Shall we brush our teeth ?" and so on.

I realise it's hardly the middle of the night or anything, and we're so fortunate to have a child who sleeps as well as he does. I'm just hoping that it's going to rub off on me too. I'd love to wake up with that level of enthusiasm first thing.

For now I'm going to take my cue from the cat and nap during the day to make up for it.

Night night.

Chilling with my cat

Gone Fishing

As you read this I'm on my hols - consider this a virtual postcard from the beach where me and Hubbie and the boy are sunning ourselves. The boy has stated his intention to eat ice cream and lollies on the beach every day, Hubbie wants to just get some sleep and I'm hoping to finish a book. Just one book, I'm not greedy.

Me and Hubbie in a rare photo together

The day before we left I donated blood and loaded up series 6 of Mad Men on my iPad as well as 6 Peppa Pig episodes and 10 Dora the Explorers. I've taken teabags - I can't be doing with Liptons which you always get abroad - and whole food bars as we're self catering so I've not entirely escaped cooking.

Sunshine and shades :)

So this comes to you via the magic of the internet - and a slight hope that it's not as hot there as it is here :) 

Even the cat will be sunbathing

This post is part of Mummy Never Sleeps joy filled linky #allthesmallthings