It’s almost 4am and my hands are raw. I’ve run out of hand gel using it so much in the last few days so I’ve had to resort to bleach. Idiot move number 1.
I’ve been awake for over 40 hours and counting. I have children projectile vomiting on me like little dominoes, setting the next one off.
Waking the baby in the process, who is the only one who isn’t vomiting and has actually been sleeping.
So here I am, at 3:43am. The loneliest of hours on the planet.
in the dark. Rocking a baby back to sleep in one arm and throwing a sick bucket under another. Hoping and praying that the other twin doesn’t wake and want to vomit at the same time and that the one upstairs is doing ok coping on her own because each time I leave to check on her another kid pukes.
She wasn’t. She had run to vomit in the loo, the lid was shut and there was a trail of vomit from the loo to the shower tray. She had also vomited in her sleep and hit the wall. Great. Just bloody great.
And I sit here, and wonder, am I the only one doing this? Am I the only mum that hasn’t got her shit together, is falling apart at the seams, with the washing pile higher than myself? My kids rarely sleep through the night, they tag team me and my top google search seems to be ‘Are my kids trying to kill me’ or ‘How long can humans survive without sleep’.
I can’t be the only one. I don’t think I am.
I’m not alone.