I’m not great without my sleep. I also hate repeating myself, especially when it’s 798 times in an hour. Combine these two and what you have is lack of patience with a certain Little Man.
It’s not that his behaviour has changed since the girls have come home. In fact he’s been bloody brilliant. Loving, accepting and no jealousy. He even gave his never-been-apart-before sleep sheep to them when he realised we’d been stealing it from his room after he’d fallen asleep in order to help his sisters drift off. Go stealth parenting!
I’ve been unfair to him. Snappy and lacking time or patience. Yet, he doesn’t seem overly fazed. He just gets on with it or finds another way to reach his desired result. For example, this morning that could probably have been called the middle of the night, he wanted me to tuck him in on the other couch. I said I couldn’t as I was burping his sister. So he thought for a moment (you can see it happening) then simply got up and came over to me to help wind her and for a tucking in of the Mum-Huggle variety.
Perhaps it is only Mum Guilt or maybe I don’t give him enough credit for how resilient he is, after all he’s my baby too. I know once the newborn phase ends it’ll become easier but, due to the girls prematurity, it seems to have been going on for so long. I’m not sure how I would explain to a three year old that I’m surviving on around 3 hours a night so please stop, just give me a moment. I don’t even know if I think that’s fair. All I know is that during this moment pictured, I was happy. I was exhausted, but I was happy.
Until next time,