I am a mother on the night’s watch

Popple sleeping

Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my baby learns how to sleep. I shall have no social life, see no friends, not even the father of my child. I shall wear dressing gowns and milk-stained vest tops. I shall feel like I will die from exhaustion at my post. I am the tired mum in the darkness. I am the watcher of rocking moses baskets. I am the fire that burns even when it’s cold (thanks, hormones), the one who sees the light of dawn because I’m still f***ing awake, the white noise that calms the sleeper, the shield that guards the realm of beds. I pledge my life and sanity to this sleepless baby and will continue my night’s watch, for this night and all the nights to come, until she decides to start sleeping through the night, FFS.

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