The shop assistant mulled over the expiration date on my coupon, paused, handed it back to me and apologetically said, 鈥淚鈥檓 ever so sorry, but I think it鈥檚 expired.鈥�
I looked it over, then whispered with uncertainty, 鈥淲hat month is it?鈥�
Just earlier that week I鈥檇 been corrected by someone over the phone that it was in fact Wednesday and not Monday, so the idea that I might have skipped an entire month wasn鈥檛 actually that ridiculous.
It鈥檚 the kind of mild confusion, I鈥檝e decided, that might be caused by six months of sleep deprivation which, in this case, involves waking four times a night to feed a little one who still gives the bottle a brush-off.聽
I don鈥檛 dare do the math on the number of hours missed. But thankfully (and I use this word cautiously) the foggy state of sleep deprivation is just, well, normal. I probably shouldn鈥檛 operate heavy machinery or attempt algebra, but I only have to look after two small children. How hard can it be? Right?
Hah! It turns out there is nothing in life that can possibly prepare you for parenting while fighting fatigue. If you鈥檝e ever tried to 鈥榩arent鈥� a willful three-year-old while sleep-deprived, you鈥檒l know what I mean. Like a wounded animal, you鈥檙e an easy target. They can sense you鈥檙e feeling weak and tap, tap, tap away at you until you want to scream, cry and give them away to the nearest pack of wolves to raise as their own.
I have, at times, been a terrible parent because of tiredness. In theory, I know the discipline routine, the beauty of distraction in diffusing an outburst and the importance of my own good listening. But when operating on little to no sleep, the rational side of my brain lags behind the irrational and I lapse into my own toddler-like behaviour 鈥� something my eldest thinks is hilarious, fanning the flames of my mummy-style meltdown.
What鈥檚 different about the sleep deprivation after a second child is that there is no downtime during the day. At all.聽
The eldest has dropped her naps and isn鈥檛 one for sitting still any longer than absolutely necessary, so it鈥檚 go, go, go from dawn 鈥檛il dusk.
Come evening, when I鈥檝e carved out just a tiny slice of time to do something other than fend off tiny people, I Google parenting tips and expert opinions 鈥� of which there鈥檚 as much variety as there is volume, leaving me more puzzled than ever.聽
My solace at nighttime is the handful of mums also on child number two who send the occasional text. There鈥檚 camaraderie with a message received at 1 a.m., a friendly reassurance that you鈥檙e not the only one going through this.
And then, when the little one inevitably wakes for the third of fourth time that night, and you鈥檙e desperately rocking her back to sleep, instead of following your plans and nodding off, she looks up with a heart-melting smile.聽
You forget the fatigue, the tantrums, the hopeless desperation of being outnumbered by children during the daytime, and contemplate, just ever so slightly, the possibility of having a third.聽
