I just won the "I'm tired" competition

So much for the year of content, hey?

Not long after being all "yeah, this is gonna be it, I'm actually gonna blog" I took on a few new social media clients. And then I decided I really wanted to make a go of the new side hustle Perth school holiday project. And we moved house, yaddah yaddah yaddah. You know, life.

I was so exhausted by April that I was struggling to keep up with everything. I am so bone achingly exhausted that it is effecting all my day to day interactions and my stress levels. Plus I've fallen asleep driving more times than I care to mention. If it's a 15 minute trip I'm good... any longer and I need toothpicks to prop open my eyelids. All our Albany trips we make? I never drive. MG has always done it solo.

I had all the thyroid and iron tests and asked a few times about sleep studies because I'm a massive chainsaw snorer and have been since forever. Side note: when I travelled to Bali with my bestie, I recommended separate rooms because I snore SO LOUD and she was all "we'll be fine" thinking I was exaggerating... she had to go buy ear plugs the next day and I'm pretty sure she'll never travel with me again. An "I told you so" was forthcoming.

My tiredness was put down to my depression and anxiety. Which is a pretty fair call, to be honest. But I was annoyed that even when pushing so hard with martial arts (my version of "pushing hard" is not necessarily the same for others), and doing all the sleep hygiene, and getting my head sorted with meditation, counselling etc, that I was just getting more and more tired every day.

For years I put it down to Tricky's sleep habits; always coming in to our bed or wanting me in his. The constant disruptions would of course mean constant tiredness. Then we got him sleeping better with the help of paediatric sleep specialist and melatonin... and while he still wakes multiple times a night, he's better at getting himself back to sleep and will only come to snuggle a few times a week now. SO why am I still so tired?

I pushed for a sleep study again. Without any high blood pressure or heart disease, they don't really wanna know you, but I pushed nonetheless, knowing I was likely getting a lil hypochondriac stamp on my file.

Last week I wired myself up for an at home sleep study. If you'd like to feel like a cross between a radio and a bomb, then I'd highly recommend it. Ironically, it's not easy to sleep during a sleep study.

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Dude, I blogged my sleep study results. 😴 This lil sleep study vid got so many giggles in my stories so I thought I'd share it with the rest. Live link in bio x

A post shared by G L O W (aka Trae) (@wheres.my.glow) on Nov 29, 2018 at 4:02am PST

(Look at that half mo, coming along. You can donate to MG's Movember fundraiser here)

Fast forward a week from my sexy wired-for-sound study, today I got the results.

It's normal for everyone to have a few sleep apneas a night, where you stop breathing for at least 10 seconds. Less than five an hour is fine. 6-15 is mild, 16-29 is moderate, and anything over 30 is severe sleep apnea.

I had an average of 51 episodes an hour over all positions, and 60 episodes an hour when laying on my back. Some of them lasting up to 40 seconds each time.

Yep. Once a minute. Knocking my oxygen down to the mid 70% range and making my heart go all over the shop, spiking and plummeting so much the graph looks like a rollercoaster.

I felt like shouting out I TOLD YOU I WAS TIRED!

Instead a few tears sprang to my eyes for three reasons:

1. It's me. I always fucking cry.

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"Why do you always wear tshirts with writing?" "So I don't have to talk to people" 🤷‍♀️

A post shared by G L O W (aka Trae) (@wheres.my.glow) on Nov 15, 2018 at 12:28am PST

2. I had this strange sense of validation; a triumphant "I'm not lazy!" despite having to have more rests and naps than anyone I know.

3. Because it is SO treatable. CPAP and weight loss. And funnily enough, I'm told with CPAP comes weight loss because your body starts working like it never has before. But that remains to be seen cos I really like Malteasers. And chips. And nachos. And icecream. And everything else high in sugar and fat and whatever it is that is evil this month.

My consultant passed me a tissue and said she was blindsided that the results were so extreme. Someone my age and weight/neck circumference would be expected to have a mild sleep apnea at worst. Well hoo-fucking-ray for my soft palate going above and beyond expectations.

I walked out of the appointment with a hired CPAP machine to test out and I start tonight. I wonder if MG will find me as beautiful with a long tube pumping air up nostrils as he did when I had electrodes spot welded to my head?

I'm nervous and not looking forward to the physical side of sleeping with a mask on, but I'm genuinely excited. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. I have no idea how the world will feel in a body that isn't exhausted. This has been me as long as I can remember. Perhaps my chronic pain levels will lessen? I'm apparently getting zero sleep in the repair your cells bit and I'm over here like no shit. Maybe my mood will be become more stable? And global warming will cease and Trump will be impeached? One can only hope.

It's still thought of as an old man's disorder (or a preemie baby disorder - nothing like going for extreme ends of the spectrum), and you know how I feel about stigmas, so I'm sharing it with you even though I'm a bit embarrassed. Got your own apnea story to share? Tell me!

Goodnight, sleep tight, stay in your fucking bed tonight

A few months ago I was wondering to myself how long it's been since I've slept through the night...

So I exaggerate slightly. Sue me.

Tricky was never much of a sleeper. He only ever took 40 minute day naps as a baby and toddler, even when he was being worn, in the car, or being pushed in the pram. Over night was better, he would wake to feed every hour or two.

But he was such a chilled out baby and toddler that I could handle the sleep deprivation. He would happily play at my feet if I sat on the couch. He'd drive his cars over me, and I could lay down and play blocks with not much effort if we'd had a particularly wakeful night. There was no school run I had to be up and somewhat dressed for. It was a cruisy existence, even with bags under my eyes.

I was very staunch in my attitude that parenting does not stop at night. If he needed me, he needed me. End of story.

And I still believe this, I do, but throw in another child to be cared for, particularly one who is feisty and has higher demands for attention, a school run to do at 8am, and the days of getting away with four hours of sleep were gone.

Seven years I lasted, and I use the term 'lasted' in it's loosest sense. Seven years of him taking hours to fall asleep and then waking multiple times and being awake for hours every night. He seemed to be fine with little sleep; it hasn't affected his school work or behaviour much at all, but I'm over here with my eyeballs hanging out, desperate for a nap.

We tried reward charts, bribery, punishment, co-sleeping, strict no getting out of bed rules, toys, comforters, relaxation, meditation, music, night lights, you name it. I even shouted at him to stay in his fucking bed. Parent of the year award, right there.

Go the Fuck to Sleep by Adam Mansbach and Ricardo Cortes aka MY PEOPLE

When I finally had enough of living on caffeine and built up resentment, and asked for help we were referred to a paediatric sleep specialist who checked that we were doing everything 'right' first (no screen time before bed, a good bed time routine etc) and got us booked in for a sleep study.

The study showed he has Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS) and Periodic Limb Movement Disorder (PLMD) which is the name given to restless legs if it continues after you've fallen asleep. Your legs can move up to five times an hour when you're asleep to be considered OK and the sensors showed that Tricky's legs moved on average TWENTYFIVE TIMES AN HOUR. These little jerking movements were preventing him from going to sleep and then waking him up when he finally drifted off.

She started Tricks on melatonin (much to the chargin of our GP) and it helped him get to sleep, but he didn't stay asleep. A trial of Magnesium showed no improvement, so that's where an iron supplement came in.

A measly 5ml of iron every night is our miracle drug.

I cannot believe it.

Since starting the melatonin and iron, Tricks no longer takes hours to go to sleep and he doesn't wake up all night long. Halle-fuckin'-lujah!

I can put him to bed and go back to check on him ten minutes later to find him fast asleep. THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE. He generally sleeps through the night and if I hear him wake, he takes a sip of water, turns over, farts, whatever it is that he woke for, and GOES BACK TO SLEEP!

I repeat THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!

He is finally getting the sleep he needs and I'm so happy for him, and you betcha I'm frickin' happy for me, too.

We'll continue the melatonin and iron for three months and then re-asses, and try to wean him off them. But until then, I will rejoice in the glorious hours of unbroken sleep we are now getting and try to catch up on those last seven years.

The day I left my baby in the car

I'm opening myself up to a lot of criticism with this post. If you'd like to tell me how horrible I am, go ahead. There is nothing you can say to me that I haven't already said to myself. But maybe, just maybe, you'll see that by pressing publish on this post, when tragic stories hit the news, it isn't necessarily torch and pitchfork time.

There used to be an Australian TV show called Crownies (it's now called Janet King). They had a story line where a baby died in a hot car after the father forgot him. The episode left me devastated and has stayed with me. Then, last year, it happened in real life here in Perth with an 11 month old baby and I was equally distressed. One was a fictional family and the other a real one that I had zero connection to, and yet my heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest. I remember my arms aching to hold my babies even closer that night, and it was one of the occasions where Tricky kicking me in his sleep was a blessing.

I wrote of my distress on my Facebook page and it touched a lot of people. Some were upset whilst others were confused at how anyone could ever forget a child and suspected something sinister (as the courts in the US suspect now in a horrible case). A Washington Post article did the rounds, explaining how common forgetting a child was (it's a long, but fascinating article). It referenced the Swiss Cheese Theory and it stuck in my head. Likening our lives to slices of Swiss Cheese, the holes are all over the place and when things fall through one layer, there is another right underneath to catch it... but sometimes, those holes line up and accidents happen.

Bobbin is a few days shy of being 11 months old, and yesterday, I forgot she was with me. The holes in our Swiss Cheese life lined up:

For starters my memory is shot. On Monday I forgot, within 40 minutes that MapGuy was off work, sick. I came home to grab a bag I had forgotten and nearly shat myself when I saw someone standing in the hall out of the corner of my eye.

Yesterday MG was off work sick again. With him home it meant I could drop Tricky at his first day back at school solo, which was fabulous because getting two of them out of the car in the rain is a pain.

At pick up time I ummed and ahhed about taking Bobbin with me or leaving her home with MG because of the rain. I decided to take her then I'd go shopping after I picked up Tricks. MG put her in the car while I jumped in the front. As I was backing out the driveway I realized I'd forgotten the shopping list so MG ran inside to get it and handed it to me through the window. I even made a joke about having a terrible memory, and waved goodbye.

I drove to school thinking about nothing important. The shopping list. What time to start dinner. Wondering if Tricks had had a good day at school. Wondering if I'd get a parking spot.

I pulled in to the street and parked in the exact same spot I had parked in that morning. Score. About ten metres away from the gate, close enough to not need an umbrella, even if the few spots of rain that had been threatening for half an hour decided to fall. I got out, jammed my keys in my pocket and walked through the school gate.

I chatted. I put my name down on the parent roster. I chatted some more. Tricky came out, we hugged and I asked him about his day. "It was good. Come and play with me." So I did. The rain was holding back so we walked around his playground looking at the strawberry plants and the Camellias. I was so impressed with myself that brown-thumb me could recognize some plants.

We walked through the gate hand in hand, swinging our arms, chatting about being back at school. It was a lovely moment, until we reached the car and I opened the door for him. Because that's when I saw her.

She leaned forward in her car seat, still rear-facing, and smiled at Tricky, saying his name.

I felt all the air rush out of my lungs and for the briefest of moments I could swear my heart stopped. I was so confused.

What the fuck is going on? How did you get here? Didn't I leave you with your Dad? No. I didn't. I brought you. I forgot you. I left you. Fuck. FUCK!

Ten minutes. I forgot her for ten whole fucking minutes while I made bullshit small talk about school holidays and not getting any sleep.

I got in the car and carried on like nothing had happened. We went to the shops and I walked around on autopilot grabbing the handful of things we needed. I spoke to the cashier, I smiled at a school mum, I told Tricky he couldn't have a packet of biscuits. Just push through, just go through the motions, don't acknowledge the horror, don't fall apart.

At home I told MG and then emailed my sister to declare that I was the worst mother to have ever lived. A throw back to Catholic school days and a need to confess my sins, searching for absolution. They were both shocked but understanding. I withdrew.

You would think, that after such a disturbing event, that I would spend the rest of the afternoon hugging my children, smothering them with kisses. But I didn't. For the remainder of the afternoon I avoided my kids, so ashamed with my actions (or lack thereof) that I could barely look at them. The thoughts that ran through my head were dark and scary, reminiscent of times when the Black Dog was not just barking at my heels, but mauling my soul. It was frightening how quickly I went back to old, familiar thought patterns.

After a few hours, when I could breathe again, I ran a bath for me and the kids. I washed their hair and we played with cups, splashing and laughing. Be normal. Be normal. Be normal.

I read Tricky a book and cuddled him to sleep, stroking his hair. Bobbin fed to sleep in my arms and I held her for a while, kissing her forehead, smelling that fresh baby smell as the endless what ifs circled whirled through my head. And finally, I cried.

MapGuy says it's OK. That all is forgiven. This was "just" ten minutes on a rainy day with no tragic outcome. I know I would tell someone else in my position that it was an accident, to take the experience, move on, learn from it. But right now, I just can't forgive myself.

A bobbing Bobbin is a sleeping Bobbin

This is a C1 post

For full details please see my disclosure policy

This time last year I was getting ready for Bobbin's Babyshower Giveaway and one lucky reader won a beautiful Amby Baby Air Hammock - the most popular prize of the lot because HOW DO I MAKE MY BABY SLEEP seems to be the number question on every parents' lips. Miss Bobbin made her beautiful, water birth arrival in August and has been testing out the Amby pretty much ever since. Longest. Review. Ever.

When I was introduced to the Amby, I thought looked beautiful and I loved the concept as I'm a huge believer in the "fourth trimester", gentle parenting, babywearing and cosleeping. But I can't wear her all the time thanks to a dodgy back and cosleeping wasn't appropriate all the time (if Tricky needed to be in with us or if I was exhausted), so a hammock that gently rocks, sways and bobs around as Bobbin moved, lulling her back to sleep seemed like an amazing middle ground.

After a rocky start (pun absolutely intended), I found my groove with the Amby. There was a bit of a knack to lowering her in to it, so I was inadvertently waking her up every time! But I persisted and eventually got the hang (pun intended again) of it. The only issue for me was bending over when my back was knackered, because it is quite low, but most of the time it wasn't a problem. Note to self: if you remembered to bend your knees, this wouldn't be an issue.

Excluding our initial hiccups, Bobbin did sleep longer in the hammock than in her bassinet. She'd startle and the movement created would gently rock her back to sleep, so she was only waking when she was hungry or completely rested.

I've lost count of the number of times I'd hear her babbling to herself after she'd woken up in the Amby, and I can only put it down to waking when she was ready to wake, rather than from jerking herself awake.

I loved how easy to set up it was. It was able to do it in a few minutes and it didn't even require an allen key. Huzzah! Being super lightweight meant I could pick it up and move it to wherever I needed it - it moved around a lot because of our renovations and even lived at a friend's house to help with her colicky baby for a little while. It lives in our bedroom most of the time but when the Freo Doctor would come in after a hot day, we'd pop it out the back so Bobbin could bop around with the breeze gently blowing through the mesh, while Tricky played in the blow up pool. I'd like an adult sized one, actually. With a cocktail, thanks.

She still fits in it, and it's my go-to coping method when she is unsettled and I can't wear her in the carrier for whatever reason.

To see some absolutely stunning images of it, head over to Documenting Delight. Georgia creates beautiful images of everything, but the pictures of the Amby down by the river are so lovely they put my pictures of the Amby on the back patio by the blow up pool to shame. Her little (well, big) bubba Florin and partner, Errol, star in the new video... fitting since she made it.

The gift of sleep {plus details of a $15,000 giveaway}

This post is sponsored by The Sleep Store via Shake Media

About a month ago I counted up all the women I knew that were pregnant. I counted 22. Then I thought about all my online friends that were up the duff as well and my head exploded in a dizzy haze of hormones and cluckiness.

A few of that lot have given birth by now (two in my mothers’ group) and a few more have joined the preggo ranks (another two in my mothers’ group). I’m less inclined to believe that there’s “something in the water” and instead think it’s more of a case of “something on the bedside table” *coughfiftyshadescough*.

There is one thing these women all have in common other than their ability to ovulate at approximately the same time. They will all soon know the joy of sleep deprivation.

In a perfect world, at their baby showers, I would give them all the gift of a baby who is a “good sleeper” (whatever the hell that means). However, since it is kinda hard to giftwrap a baby, what with all the wriggling, I will have to settle for giving them a gift voucher from The Sleep Store.

It’s a one stop shop for sleep deprived parents - they sell everything from pyjamas to linen, sticker charts to relaxation CDs. Everything sleep related. Plus there is a whole section dedicated to answering all your sleep questions no matter what your child’s age. The website is so easy to navigate and my parcel arrived two days after ordering. TWO DAYS! It takes longer for an envelope to get here sometimes!

After much deliberation, I decided to not go for the sleep trainer clock despite desperately wanting one (because OMG every. single. night. the child simultaneously head-butts me whilst kicking his dad), and instead opted for a super cool ultrasonic vaporizer that will hopefully help the head-butting, neck-kicking toddler breathe easier.

Ultracompact. Ultrasonic. Ultracool.

On a side note, everyone warned me about the condensation that comes with vaporizers. Not with this baby! It works on high speed vibrations to disperse water vapours in to the air instead of a heating element. It’s cool to the touch even after 8 hours use and is also an air purifier, ionizer, aroma diffuser and night light. Love it!

If you head over to The Sleep Store you can enter The Great $15,000 Giveaway. The prizes are amazing and have me wishing I was allowed to enter because I’ve totally still got my eye on that sleep clock. I’ve got to get one before I wake up with a broken nose.

Do you have strange bedfellows every night? How do you stop the head-butting and kicking?

How to get your toddler to have a day sleep

This post is sponsored by Big W

It’s been said that when you become a parent the days are long but the years are fast. And it’s true, they were right (whoever they are). I think Baby Time advances at a much faster rate… kinda like dog years.

So far this has been pretty true for us. Time flies when you’re sprawled out on the floor playing with your kid and his Big W Toys, and drags on and on and on and on when you’re breastfeeding at 3:00am. When it’s minus two degrees. And the heater doesn’t work. And you can’t reach your phone.

To demonstrate my point, here’s a handy graph for you. You’re welcome.

As you can see, time moves the fastest while your child sleeps. Because it’s in graph form, it must be true.

Tricky has been threatening to completely drop his day sleep over the past few months and I WILL NOT LET THIS HAPPEN. I am determined. Despite the immediate shift in the time space continuum that occurs the moment his head hits the pillow, I still covet a moment of alone time. You know, because cleaning the house while a toddler is playing is like trying to stop the Titanic sinking using only a squeegee and a bucket.

A toddler nap may only feel like five minutes but in that time, I become a Domestic Goddess. I can do the dishes, hang out the washing, grab some lunch, tidy away toys and go to the toilet alone, with the door closed, without a hip high whippersnapper demanding I look at his Duplo creation for the 300th time.

Recently I’ve put in a lot of effort in to researching how to keep the increasingly elusive nap as part of our routine and I’m happy to announce that I have discovered a cure for no-nap-itis that is so far foolproof and, as an ethical bonus, requires no gaffa tape.

Step 1: Go to the Big W Online Store

Step 2: Buy a trampoline

Step 3: Set it up

Step 4: Let child bounce*

* a minimum of four hours at a time is recommended for optimum effectiveness

Four easy steps, only one of which requires an allen key or a screwdriver. Hooray! Let's jump for joy... LITERALLY!

If your child is anything like Tricky, he will bounce for hours. He will resist, rather loudly, when it’s time to go inside for a nap, BUT he will slip in to the land of nod quicker than you can say “Mama needs a Twitter fix”. In some cases, he will succumb to sleep INSTANTLY.

At that point you are free to run around and do all the things that are nigh on impossible to do (or at least do well) with a toddler under your feet. Important things like cooking dinner and catching up on the deadlines that have gone whooshing by. It is also the perfect opportunity to put your feet up with a cuppa and do bugger all.

What age did your child give up a day sleep? Did you attempt gaffa taping them to the bed?

Sleeping Like A Baby - Giveaway

Tricky has never been a good sleeper. On his better nights he’d wake up screaming a minimum of four times and a few times it was as many as eight. One time it was thirteen. THIRTEEN! My Mum came over the next morning to take Tricky for babycino and I opened the door, thrust him in her arms and told her not to bring him back. Sleep deprivation is a bitch.

Mix his constant waking with a little bit of insomnia and I was living surviving on about four hours of broken sleep a night.

“He’ll sleep through the night as soon as he self-settles” I was told.

He has self-settled from a month old. Put him in his cot, leave the room and he’d fall asleep. Sometimes you’d have to go back once to make him lay down again, but most of the time that’d be it. The times he would just stir or slightly wake, he would go back to sleep by himself, albeit after moving to the other side of the cot and turning upside down.

But he would cry out in his sleep, really loud, sad, sobbing cries and his own crying was waking him. He’d wake screaming so he’d keep crying. I have no idea if he was dreaming of someone taking Mama’s boobs away or what, but he would go from sleeping peacefully to full on screaming in less than a second.

Anyway, after implementing a rather strict routine of sleep and feed times, he was starting to get the hang of it and we got it down to waking once or twice a night. Then I spoke to Caroline Radford and Caroline McMahon from Caroline’s Angels (the baby sleep specialists) and in our fifteen minute chat they gave me a few tips… the next morning I woke to hear him babbling in his cot at 7am… he had slept through AND woken up happy!

After eight loooong months of no sleep there was much singing and dancing in the street that morning I can assure you. And it has continued with the bare minimum of setbacks which I’m pretty sure was just teething related. I am over the moon!

So now you have the opportunity to get a little Angel Action for yourself.

Up for grabs is an Angel Wings Membership valued at $59.00! You will get three months of online access to the Caroline’s Angels extensive sleep and behavioural solutions catalogue. Their wealth of information will be at your fingertips and you’ll be able to download articles to view and work through at the pace that suits you and your child’s developmental stage.

They have 37 years of combined experience on everything from toilet training, to eating and of course, sleeeeeep, and winning this means you (or a very lucky friend) have exclusive access to it! If a few words to them got Tricky sleeping imagine what three months worth of access to their library will do for you!

Entering is simple:

1. Become a Follower of Where’s My Glow? it’s a little button over there >>> that says “Follow” (required)
2. Like Caroline’s Angels on Facebook (required)
3. Leave a comment below telling me what you would do if you had wings!

For extra entries

1. Like Where’s My Glow? on Facebook (leave a separate comment)
2. Tweet the following:

“I want my Angel Wings from @CarolinesAngels and @Glowless http://bit.ly/gKem2a "

Since it’s an online read-only source the giveaway is open to everyone. Entries close Friday 18^th February at 8pm AWST at which time the winner will be chosen using a random number generator. The winner will be contacted by email and has one week to claim their prize - if the prize is not claimed by this time it will be redrawn.

  

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Meet Glowless at the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to

HealthyChart and Baby Goes Retro and Simply Colors

Letter to Tricky - Five months old

Dear Tricky,

It has started. You are now officially mobile and you love it. Before you would roll over and be so entertained with whatever you found in front of you that you would stay there. But now? Now you have realised that by putting a few rolls together you can get to a bigger and better toy. The look on your face when you reach out and finally get your hands on it is priceless - you look so proud of yourself!

You are such a clever boy, you know how to turn the smiles on for your grandparents and make them swoon, which of course will translate to awesome Christmas presents. You've got them wrapped around your very little, little finger. In fact your Perth Nanna is so besotted with you that she sent you a letter the other day... but it was actually what was on the envelope that was great - your gorgeous little face smiling back at me from the stamp! You're famous!

You're legal tender, Tricks!

This month you started eating solids and you have taken to it like a natural, which isn't surprising since Mummy really likes her food too. You're so eager to have dinner every night that you get a little cranky at me if I'm too slow to bring the spoon over! You grab at the spoon to get it to it faster, except you're not really too good at aiming the end of it to your mouth just yet so you need to be hosed off after.

We've been back and forth to the hospital for the clever surgeons to check that your Go-Go-Gadget Springs are doing their thing and making your noggin grow in the right direction. Every time we go you smile and giggle at the doctors and nurses even though they are poking and prodding your head around - you don't seem to mind in the slightest and it makes it much easier on Mummy, thank you.

Now there is something I've been meaning to have a few words to you about. It's your sleeping pattern. Or rather, lack thereof. Mummy would really appreciate it if you let her get more than four hours of broken sleep a night, OK? You are such a cruisey little fella during the day so I can't really complain too much, but please, please, please stop waking up to play with your feet. I promise they'll still be there in the morning and you can play with them then.

Until next month my boy, keep discovering.

Love Mummy xxx

Auto Pilot

Tricky has an adorable little shirt that has a picture of a cute dinosaur and the words "Sleepy Saurus" on it. If it wasn't a size 000, I think I'd wear it myself.

I'm tired. This is no great revelation, every mother I've ever spoken to is tired too. You adjust pretty quickly to less sleep, but you do function on auto pilot for a lot of the day. But being a partial zombie isn't the best – on planes, the auto pilot is used only when going straight ahead at high altitude, when the plane doesn't have to do anything fancy like land or time the potatoes to be ready at the same time as the steak.

Some of the stupid things I've done recently as a result of being in a permanent state of sleepwalking include:

• Missed entire steps of the cooking process. I'll have a dish in the oven and look at the table to see one of the ingredients still sitting there. This has made for some very interesting meals but Hubby, knowing what is good for him, always says it still tastes great
  
  
• Tried in vain to put the cordless kettle back on it's little stand only to discover that I was actually holding the milk
  
  
• Told the same story to the same person at least three times. I now start each and every conversation with “Did I tell you...”
  
  
• Left the front door not only unlocked but ajar when I went out to the shops
  
  
• Lost my keys on an almost daily basis. They are elusive little suckers, keys - I do not know how they end up in the cutlery drawer
  
  
• Put my breast pad on backwards. This wouldn't be so much of an issue if the backs of them weren't adhesive. Peeling off a breast pad that is glued to your golden nipple is on par with a brazilian wax

Have you done anything silly/memorable/embarrassing in a sleep deprived state? Leave a comment below with your story. No seriously, do it – just so I know I'm not the only one!

Like this post? Why not use the icons below (where it says 'Bookmark this post') to share it on Digg, Twitter or Facebook?

Zzzzzzz

Let's for a minute discuss the phrase “sleeping like a baby”. It's used to describe a peaceful, deep sleep that you wake from feeling refreshed and ready to go. How on earth this came about is beyond me because now that I have a baby I know they don't sleep like that at all. A newborn wakes every two to four hours for a feed and when this is over there is always a bit of time to crap their pants and spit up a bit of milk. Screaming your lungs out because you've soiled yourself doesn't normally make it's way in to the “sleeping like a baby” image. These are what my nights (and days) are like right now.

Hubby is amazing. In the middle of the night after Tricky has been fed it is Super Dad who changes him and settles him back to sleep – or at least tries to – Tricky has his “witching hour” normally at 4:00am. No amount of nappy changes, singing, patting, rocking or cooing seems to settle him. Then just as suddenly as it all started... silence. Whatever was ailing him passes and he drifts back off to sleep making cute little snorty noises. The cuteness doesn't get rid of the bags under my eyes though, which are now too big for a standard cabin size and must be checked through to the cargo hold.

We are taking comfort in the fact that this stage doesn't last forever. His stomach is currently the size of a walnut and he can only have a little bit to drink before he is full to the brim. Add to this that breastmilk is so easily digestible that it can pass completely through his tiny little system in just over half an hour and you have a recipe for really frequent feeds! Soon though it will expand and the time between feeds will gradually lengthen. Which means I will be able to sleep for more than 45minutes at a time. Pure bliss!

As tired as I am, I cannot get angry at my little Tricky. He doesn't know what is happening – doesn't know what the pain in his tiny little tummy means, doesn't know that the hand pulling out his dummy is his own (yes, I'm a terrible mother who gave her child a dummy – we call it his plug). At this age the only way he can communicate that there is some sort of discomfort is by crying. I try to remember that no matter how frustrating it is for me to not be able to comfort him and get no sleep, how frustrating must it be for him? The poor little tacker is still getting used to this big world.

In the not too distant past, at time like this a dummy was dipped in whiskey to help junior off to the land of nod... turns out though that some people still do this – a woman in the United States has just been sentenced to eight years in prison for giving a nine month old she was babysitting a sippy cup full of wine to help the little boy go to sleep. Whilst it is not something I would choose to do, I can actually understand why some people would dip a dummy in alcohol, but how this chick thought an entire cup full of wine would be anything other than extremely dangerous is beyond me. The little boy had a blood alcohol reading of .33 – that is SIX TIMES the legal driving limit in Australia!!! According to Wikipedia, readings of .35 and above are associated with coma and death and 50% of cases reaching 0.40 will prove fatal. In my mind what makes this worse is that the woman was only in charge of the child and his siblings for five hours – she had not endured days or weeks of a screaming child. How could you be so impatient with such a tiny, innocent creature?

So I've had my rant and thanks, I feel a bit better. I will continue to have sleepless nights for a while but it could be much worse. I have a healthy baby, a supportive family more than willing to cuddle Tricky for a few hours so I can have a nap, and a wonderful husband who does not “babysit” - he cares for his child. I'm luckier than a lot of people out there, and that thought gets me through... well that and a bit of chocolate.

What got you through the sleepless nights?