I write this as once again, I sit on a terribly uncomfortable tiny plastic kids chair next to Albi’s door, as I try in vain to channel my hidden jedi skills to mind-fuck him to sleep. And now it’s also Grace’s turn, which means as soon as Albi goes down for the count, I’m heading upstairs to cajole my big girl to sleep.
Actually, I just took a 10min break from writing as I, well, lost my shit. I yelled, swore, pleaded and whined. I’ve had enough. Three hours, that’s a fifth of my day, is spent putting children to sleep. And by the time they are, it’s bedtime for me. So I may as well go to bed at 7pm every night.
Fuck. That.
I’ve tried going all hard arse; just closing the door and saying goodnight. But that just means they keep coming out until all hours saying they can’t sleep. I thought if I persisted they’d adjust, but noooooooo, they just got so tired that their teachers were having “chats” with me about their behaviour in school and asking if everything was alright at home.
Well if course it fucking isn’t you twats – why don’t you come around and see if you can put the little turds to bed!
I’ve burnt incense, lathered them in “sleepy time” essential oils, done countless fucking smiling mind meditations, read a bloody library of books, talked, massaged feet, “mindful” coloured, tickled backs, arms and legs. I’ve even sung lullabies for hours on end. I’ve woken them early, tired them out with physical activities after school, let them stay up later and sent them to bed earlier. They’ve slept in my bed, their own bed and each other’s beds. Hell, we’ve even had a “sleep out” in the lounge room. Ive tried no TV, more TV, audio books and meditation music.
Apart from drugging the little vampires, I’ve tried it all.
So if anyone out there has any pearls of parental wisdom that I have not already outlined as a previously attempted method – please enlighten me.
Because it’s got me fucked.
✌️