Last night, I aged 10 years. Here’s how….
10PM – Like clockwork just as we head up to bed, Twin 1 cries so hard, he coughs up what sounds like the entire air capacity of his little lungs. Ends up downstairs with us, playing trumpets with his inhaler, trying to make it fun, looking like we’ve finally lost the plot in the process. It doesn’t work. Force inhaler, panic that he’s panicking and whack on that little shit, Peppa to calm him down. Top, right eyelid starts to droop.
12:30AM – Twin 1 unsettled again, this time landing him in your bed for a snuggle, because you’re just so bloody tired. As soon as you hear him trump, you all breathe a sigh if relief that you now know why, and get him straight back into his bed. You’ve cracked it, he’s asleep…. but your left, bottom eye bag starts to appear. You’ve aged 2 years.
2AM – Twin 1 loses snuggler in blanket which is about a 9.3 on the richter scale. Soon settles back down after a little bum pat, but regardless of length of struggle, your right, top eyelid starts to droop… feels like you’ve been punched, taking you up another 2 years.
2.40AM – Twin 1 is at full throttle, AGAIN. Staright to the top of richter scale. You leave him to cry for about 10 minutes before heading back in. Turns out all that water you clapped him for drinking at dinner has just bit you in the arse. His nappy is leaking, everywhere is soaked. Nappy and clothes change, back to bed. You feel horrendous that the poor, little love was trying to tell you 3 times this far, and you still didn’t realise. You drift off to sleep with an anxious mummy tummy. Bang. Here come the big eye bags….. plus 2 years.
4:45AM – Twin 2 makes himself known. You feel really drunk because you’ve had zero sleep and start praying that this is just some kind of sick dream. He gets a bit upset, but he settles himself well… phew. That was close…. but the sheer thought of a tag team tantrum at this hour, has caused your little mate, Bill, to pop out above your lip. As if my eyeballs weren’t a sight for sore eyes… here come the zits.
5:10AM – Twin 2 wasn’t finished. This isn’t like him, maybe he’s had a rough night too, listening to Twin 1? I go to check… ah…. the water at dinner. It was all rainbows and butterflies at the time as they gulped it from a new bottle. Like a script written by someone with poor taste in humour, round two of a full change of nappy and clothes commences, and you find yourself mumbling about getting up and dressed whilst arguing with your husband in the dark about a plan for the following night, while you both intermittently start singing softly, softly lullabies. All clean and settled, off to bed he goes, and you can feel the throb of the big eye bag on the left appearing. You can add 4.
Bam. 10 years older….