What is that song called by Bon Jovi, Live while I am alive, sleep when I am dead?
Well that has been me with regards to sleeping the last 3 years.
Once my bedtime was 10pm at the very latest. Mr MMM is like 9.30pm, wham bam thank you mam. The only time he stays up past this is if we are out or to watch a movie on a weekend.
Notice when describing my bedtime, I said ONCE?
Rewind me back to the 3rd week of Lil D’s life. When things started to go a little skew if. It was most definitely the beginning of what we now know as our bloody nightmare. Or as you may now know as Lil D’s infant reflux. Prior to this 3rd week I was sleeping ok, we would feed 3-4 hourly overnight and I was ok with that.
As Lil D’s reflux and pain become more intense, Mr MMM and I took it in turns to sleep upright with our son on our chests, just so he wasn’t in pain and screaming. The one thing I discovered about myself (which I sort of knew), was that I am a really bad person to wake up and get going. It takes me time and having this screaming baby to tend to in the middle of the night, made me feel like I had just stumbled in tipsy from the pub for the first 10 minutes.
I would have whole conversations with Mr MMM during this time of sleep drunkardness and I could not tell you for the life of me what they were about the next day. And here I was caring for my precious son? Yikes.
So I learnt to just not sleep. I felt safer. I would stay up until at least 11.30 pm each night so that I was ready for the worst of the scream sessions of the night. After that was done, I would allow myself naps on and off until morning.
As the years passed, I would get all the kids off to bed at 8pm and then make the most of these quiet hours to just do whatever the hell I pleased. I would blog, read, watch a movie, Facebook, Pinterest… yaddee yaddee yadahhh. I knew it wasn’t good for me as the following morning was rough, but still Lil D would be a nightmare around 11pm, so I had a great excuse for what had grown to be my favourite hours of the day.
I was always exhausted but I was loving life on autopilot. I had to. It was either that or cave to depression and hello, I had these 4 hours every night that was like my cocaine. Bliss .. even if the baby ended up hanging off my boobs at the end of it.
11.30 to Midnight become my bedtime. I was hooked. Addicted. Lights being off and all technology away at 10pm but no sleep fairy would arrive with her sleepy dust. So I would toss and turn until I would grab my phone and lose myself in Pinterest or reading blogs.
That would leave me 5 hours to sleep before I would have to hit the ground running out the door to work, by 6.45am.
Yeah, so that wasn’t working. In fact, things were getting a little manic at times and my anxiety was absolutely shite.
Now, I ask you today about your bedtime because I have just recently through meditation, exercise and good eating managed to wind my bed time back to 10pm. I no longer have that screaming baby at 11pm, and even though I can think of a million things I would prefer to be doing than sleeping, I know my body needs it to function. (yes pain in the arse … has someone invented the Mummy Powerpoint yet?)
It is hard to strike a balance isn’t it? Getting all you can out of life, being satisfied as a person, being a great Mum and getting enough sleep.
So out with it…what time is lights out for you?
Are you a night owl, so you can savour some you time? Or are you snoring and drooling all over your Tontine by 9.30pm?
Cause that whole Sleep When Your Dead lyric, is just a little bit mad albeit a GREAT IDEA.