A bit of flash fiction today. Not
8pm. Great, baby asleep in good time. Should really go to bed now, but I’ll just have five minutes first. Ooh, there’s a repeat of that show I missed the other night. Right, I’ll make a cuppa and watch that; it’s only half an hour…
9.30pm. Gah, what’s that? Tea everywhere! Stupid, must have dozed off there. Only saw half of that programme too. Well, guess I may as well go to bed. A year ago I’d have just been getting going on the second round of drinks by now. But this is good. I like being a mum – most days. Yes. Really. Ok, bed.
10pm. And here we go. Baby awake. Change her, feed her. Put her back down. Still not asleep? Ok, we’ll try the old mummy dance. The last time I danced this slow with anyone I ended up with Baby. Sway, sway. Shuffle, shuffle. Sing, sing, softer and softer. Asleep. Back to bed.
11pm. Typical, been trying to get back to sleep and can’t. Might go make a hot chocolate.
11.30pm. It’s strange but true, you can actually go to sleep standing up. Maybe the hum of the microwave. Maybe the micro-waves of the microwave, scrambling my brain. Not sure how anyone would tell. Anyway, hot chocolate ready now. Will drink it in bed and definitely NOT doze and spill it on sheets.
Midnight. Well, a couple of spots on the sheet aren’t too bad in the scheme of things. And they’ll come out in the wash. There’s the baby again. Change, her feed her. Put her back down. Still not asleep? Sway, sway, shuffle, shuffle. Sing, sing, softer and softer. Asleep. Head straight for the door, watch out for the…yes, that toy there, the one with the flashing lights. Oh well, could have been worse. Didn’t wake her. Now if I’d stepped on that toy with the musical buttons that you can’t switch off…ah, yes, that would be the one. Sway, sway, shuffle, shuffle, sing, sing. Stumble in sleepy stupor. Wake up, mummy. Sing, sing, softer and softer.
1.30am. Asleep. Back to bed.
2.30am. Who in the name of all that’s holy is texting at this time of night?? Cath. Great, sounds like she’s having fun with the girls. She should be home in bed by now. I read something the other day, that if you get less than six hours of sleep every night, by the end of two weeks you’re actually operating at the level of someone who’s drunk. I prefer the old way. At least then you got a good time and a good drink before everything went fuzzy. And you were pretty sure after the hangover you’d be ok. This hangover’s lasted 5 weeks so far. Longest hangover in history. Back to sleep.
4am. Baby awake. Change her – why aren’t the tabs sticking? What’s wrong with this stupid nappy – trust me to get a dud one. Oh. Had it on backwards. Change her, feed her. Put her back down. Stayed asleep this time. Head for the door. Awake again. Sway, sway, shuffle, shuffle. Sing, sing, softer and softer. Back to bed.
5.30am. Baby awake. Change her. She can’t need feeding again, surely? No, it’s playtime.
Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.