On teething terrors, bad nights and a game of musical beds

November 20, 2013

In the park

Last Tuesday night I said the following to Alex, about two seconds before I fell head first into a deep and delicious sleep:

  • 11.25pm: Me: ‘Isn’t it GREAT Eliza’s sleeping better now? I feel like such a normal person again …zzzZZ’

And because fate couldn’t *possibly* let that go, even just this once, the following happened:

  • 11.30pm: *sound of a cough and then a wail over the baby monitor*

Which  of course set in motion the following chain of events:

  • 11.32pm: Realising that she’s not going back to sleep, Alex and I do the split-second thing where we silently weight up which one of us is going to get up
  • 11.33pm – 12.30am: It’s me. So I get into Eliza’s bed and try to soothe her back to sleep. It works three times. And then three times when I attempt to creep out, she pops up like a meercat, shouting ‘Mummmmy!’
  • 12.31am – 1.00am: We switch tactics. Alex has a go, I go back to our bed
  • 1.01am: Alex brings a wide-awake Eliza into our bed. Five minutes later he decamps to the sofa
  • 1.30am: Surprise, she’s still awake; I take her into the lounge and wedge her on the sofa between the two of us. She starts to doze on Alex’s shoulder. I go back to our bed.
  • 03.00am: Eliza wakes up and starts wailing for me. Alex brings her back into our bed, and then goes back to the sofa
  • 03.30ish: Miraculously, we all sleep. One of us is in the right bed, so it’s kind of a result.

I blame our old familiar foe, teething. On my list of things I absolutely can’t stand, teething would be right up there (along with nuclear weapons, Nestle, and people who block the tube barrier because they haven’t got their Oyster card ready). And while we’re so near the end, the final three are clearly not coming through without a big fuss.

The only slightly good thing about teething now is that she can point to her mouth and tell us ‘ow, hurts.’ Then we know to bring out the big guns; Nurofen, the boob, and Peppa.

I’m tired. But when Eliza’s final back tooth comes through I’m having a party. And you’re ALL invited. Who’s in?

P.S. It’s also sleep month over on TalkMum, so go and read if you have a second x.

3 Comments

  • Home Alone 3: torchlight, two teeth and some tantrums |

    November 29, 2013 at 10:35 pm

    […] her up every hour and a half. I’m pinning the blame for this firmly on her two sparkling new back teeth. Poor, poor baby, also – I’m so tired. It does mean we only have two more to go though, […]

  • Farewell to teething terrors |

    March 20, 2014 at 10:24 am

    […] this, her last, she has really suffered, as most parents of teething babies will know (see: teething terrors, yet more teething terrors, and probably loads more that I’ve hidden away in a dark corner of […]

  • Potty Mouth |

    May 8, 2014 at 3:56 pm

    […] of nothing else. I clearly much prefer talking about the glamorous side of motherhood instead; teething, being miserable, and […]

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