Sleep? What's sleep?

So we have reached that inevitable stage where getting Miss Molly to bed has become a ridiculously awful affair. Some nights things work perfectly well, like tonight, she went to bed like a sweet little angel. She actually fell asleep on the lounge room floor and I transferred her into her cot without any waking. Other nights it's like someone has come into our home and swapped my little angel for a revolting, beastly demon child. She screams and cries and then she grunts. She becomes a horrid little monster, but alas she is my little monster.

There have been nights where Molly has ended up in our bed, for no other reasons other than she was hysterical and I couldn't soothe her and it was some ungodly hour of the morning and I was running on tiny amounts of sleep. So she comes into our bed so we can get some quiet, but I only half sleep because I'm so conscious of her being there that I don't want to roll over on to her, so the only winner is Mo.

I have literally tried everything. The only routine she has is her bedtime routine. I will admit that some days she has had a sleep later in the afternoon and I was too soft to wake her. After speaking to my sister, she told me that on occasion she will give the girls a pinch if they fall asleep in the afternoon hahaha! Speaking of my nieces, there is something so wonderfully sweet about hearing my 5 year old nieces sing "TNT, Oi Oi Oi" hahaha They crack me.

Back on track, Molly is still asleep as I write this (I'm praying she stays asleep until at least 6am). My sister once gave me some very sound advice, "Do what you feel is right, and do what you need to do to get through the days". So whilst battling Molly at bedtime this advice echoes through my head, and I know that I am doing the best that I can, and I walk away leaving Molly screaming. I come into the lounge room feeling awful but knowing that I am ultimately doing the right thing, when my hubby pipes up "Awww, I'm going to get her" he's an even bigger softy than me! Neither of us can bear to hear her cry. It's just one big vicious circle ha ha!

Last night I put on one of my Shakespeare for Children CDs for Molly. I had totally forgotten about those little gems my mum had gotten Molly. So she listened to Othello and A Midsummer Nights Dream, and I think they honestly helped her get to sleep, well at least I like to think they did. I love to think that she loves Shakespeare too.

So far so good tonight, so I will leave you with this thought. I now understand why sleep deprivation is used as torture.

Who am I again?

When you become a parent everything you do for yourself goes out the window, and you only ever think of one little person. Life changes completely and revolves solely around your new bundle. This has become so apparent that I completely and utterly forgot my own birthday this year.

It never even entered my mind that I would have a birthday to celebrate this year. In fact, I thought I had a month until my birthday when I suddenly realized that I only had a week.

So on the eve of my 31st birthday, I don't feel like celebrating. All I can think about is whether I've got all the washing on, when it needs to be hung out, what will I give Molly for lunch, should I wash the car, what time should we visit my grandparents....and the list is endless.

Somewhere along the line I thought I had lost myself in the ever long road of motherhood, but I have since discovered that I am still here, I'm just wearing a different hat, the hat of a mum. All my priorities have changed but I am still me. I no longer feel the need to celebrate my birthday, but my gosh will I get excited over Molly's birthdays. I can't wait to start making her cool birthday cakes and seeing her little face light up at all the wonders of her birthday. I can't wait to to tell her about the day she was born, and subsequently the horrendous pain she caused me when I was in labor.

Oh the joys of being a parent. I can't wait to horrify her with the stories of her arrival in this world. She will know what posterior means from an early age, and she will understand what I mean when I say "stitches", and she will also know that when I tell her that I love her, that it is unconditional and forever. Come what may, Molly will always be able to rely on me, and I will protect her for as long as I live.

It's funny how you come to understand so many things when you become a parent. I now truly understand how my mother must have felt when she had my sister and then me. How she must have worried about us and the world she had bought us in to. But most importantly, how she loved us from the very first moment she saw us and has always been there for us, as mad as she is and with a sick sense of humour to match, we wouldn't change her for anything. 

My birthday may come and go, but the only birthday that means anything to me now is Molly's. It was the day our lives got turned upside down and a little person was handed to me and her tiny hands reached out and grabbed my heart right out of my chest.

So tomorrow on my birthday I give thanks to my mum for giving me life and giving me her heart. She may drive me crazy at the best of times, but her love is unconditional and I am so lucky to have her.
 
Who am I again? I'm a mother who is very grateful for all the mothers she has in her life.