For the past few nights we've had a new routine. It takes me right back to the beginning, when Lil had just been born and I used to dread the nights with my entire being. Her body clock was topsy turvy so the nights were spent screaming and the days were spent sleeping. At 5pm my heart would sink. 6 o clock was the hour of doom and sometimes it would last what seemed like forever.
So I find myself at this point again. It's 23.18. She falls to sleep between 6.30 and 7pm for a handful of hours and then wakes until 10pm. That's the new hour of doom, when I try to get her back to bed. And just recently to no avail. She screams and kicks and coughs and splutters. And then after maybe an hour she gives in and goes to sleep. But not before I've counted to one hundred very slowly and wondered why the hell I even had a baby. Why does she do this?
Is it because she's been ill? Because she's teething? Maybe because this is a sign of things to come and you'll see me on that 'my kid is a fucking nightmare and won't go to sleep' programme with that supposed super nanny? I'm hoping it's the first one. My patience has been truly tested tonight. And I feel bad when, just for a split second, I think 'you've ruined my life'. Because she hasn't, she brings me so much joy. How can she cause me so much misery at the same time?
I guess that's unconditional love I have right there.