Life is all about spinning plates, but at times, there’s a full crockery set up there complete with gravy boats, dessert bowls and a six-pack of wine glasses to boot.
Work is super busy, which has just happened to coincide with both of my children getting settled into new schools, including my daughter handily only doing mornings for two weeks (although I’ve realized this is more for parents’ emotional wellbeing than the kids’, what with me running up the hill desperate to get her out and her furious to see me because she doesn’t want to leave).
Add to this piles of life admin, a broken car, a broken oven, a new pet, a kid’s birthday party to organize and, well, I could go on. And the key to coping with life bursting at the seams? Sleep, glorious, sleep. A well-rested head to cope with the day ahead. Which is when my stress, anxiety-riddled brain decides it shall go into 3am overdrive, leaving me weak-of-body, fuzzy-of-head, and not a little emotionally fragile (read: weeping all over sleeping husband at 6am, which is just how he likes to begin his day).
My night goes a little something like this:
3am Oh look, I’ve woken up in the middle of the night AGAIN. I’ll just go for a wee and then off I pop back to sleep.
3.30am WIDE awake. Why is the cat having a party under our bed?
3.45am Shut the cat out. That’ll do it.
4am Oh God, I forgot to put money in Raffi’s lunch account and he will starve/I will be judged by dinner ladies for all eternity. Maybe I should do it now while I remember. But then I need to SLEEP .
4.15am I really need to call our broadband provider because our service is slower than a turtle doing a triathlon (and more importantly Netflix cuts out half way through Queer Eye).
4.30am If I don’t get back to sleep soon, I will never cope with all I have to do tomorrow.
5am Did I accidentally upset someone I don’t even really know when I said something completely innocuous to them three weeks ago? (Insert myriad scenarios in here.)
5.30am My head is pounding and I feel dreadful.
6am ‘MUM, WHERE IS THE iPad? AND WHY CAN’T I GET ONTO FORTNITE? CAN I HAVE BREAKFAST YET?’
Three more insomniac concerns
‘I seem to be in a cold sweat. I am slowly dying from a horrible disease.’
‘I can hear noises. We are about to be murdered in our beds.’ (That’ll be a creaking pipe.)
‘I can hear noises (part 2) outside. Our rabbit is about to be murdered.’ (That’ll be a cat rummaging through the recycling.)