It’s times like this I want to say thank you to my long suffering husband (AKA Barry Poppins). He never asked for any of this… the sleepless nights, the hormones, the tears and tantrums… but he has and is amazing through it all.
Currently we are averaging around 5 hours solid sleep a night with maybe 30 mins snatched here and there… we are both working full time, the youngest is teething and still needing a feed in the night, and our eldest is still having nightmares or hearing bangs in the night. So between us we are the walking dead.
There are definite good days for both of us, when one of us can handle the lack of sleep a little better than the other, so has more patience, isn’t talking through gritted teeth, allowing 4 stories instead of 3 and generally the nicer one of the two of us.
There are also days, when Barry Poppins has had responsibility for the children – (often because Mummy has had enough and gone out to get shitfaced with her friend) which are a big strain (perhaps it’s just me – mummy guilt perhaps), because after one night of Daddy daycare (I know they aren’t babysitters), Barry starts telling hungover tired Mummy what she is doing wrong.
So despite Mummy doing the jobs a lot of the time, Barry is suddenly super nanny (and out-mums mummy)…i.e. she needs winding for longer, don’t just shove her in the cot, she needs her nose wiped…etc… these are the days (and nights) when Barry Poppins is not welcome. Because Barry is jumping up at any sound and literally racing Mummy to the nursery to deal with coughing child… so it becomes like a grumpy tango at 2am with the two of us sorting out vomit covered child and sheets whilst snarling at each other, because we both want to be in bed… asleep.
Of course, most of the time, Barry Poppins is heaven sent. Particularly when Mummy was incapacitated – like when she put her back out, needed gas and air to get off the bed, and was unable to walk or carry or do anything. Barry was right there sorting the girls out, doing the washing and tidying. And like this morning, when I discovered that our eldest was wearing knickers AND pull ups (Mummy error), our youngest was shouting at the top of her lungs and essentially Mummy was so tired she put dirty nappies in the laundry and god knows what is in the fridge….
Barry just swooped in and took over – coaxing our toddler into her clothes and off the iPad, and keeping our little one amused, while Mummy sat on the stairs growling that she was too tired, and couldn’t do it anymore. Barry is the reason I can do it, because if I didn’t have a Barry (!) I think I would have gone even battier than I currently am.
Thank you for everything.
Love you husband. All of it.