There's has recent been in the news the tragic story of the death of a five day old baby whilst being carried in a sling which inevitably has brought into question the safety of slings and babywearing.

Nothing can detract the depth of tragedy in this case yet I also think it's important to keep perspective.  The reports all cite there have been six recorded deaths in the UK of infants in slings.  One is right in thinking that any death, let alone six, is devastating yet this six isn't quoted as per week nor per month or even per year so one can only assume that that figure is six deaths, total.  Lets also note that whilst throwing this figure around they do not expand on the matter as to whether the babywearing safety guidelines were followed nor the types of sling used especially as Infantino recalled two of their bag slings due to safety issues.  If you dig around long enough you'll find stats to support human death in many commonly used and unlikely things too.

The various reports state that the sling was used correctly as per instructions however it fails to disclose the type of sling used.  There is a world of difference in technically putting a sling on properly and in wearing it responsibly.  Instructions may state what goes where yet whilst wearing there are several important factors to be aware of and check referred to as TICKS which are not found in any of the paraphernalia the NHS give to your nor in many slings bought.  I'd like to see a copy of this displayed on the noticeboards, in the birth to 5 book even in the pesky bounty packs.  If people don't know this information exists and is out there, how can they familarise themselves with it?

Anything can be potentially dangerous.  There have been multiple incidences of infant deaths due to prolonged time in car seats, do we roar about banning carseats or do we raise awareness and educate on the correct use-age of them?  No baby should die it goes against everything we should believe in yet they do.  It's awful, devastating and as a mum, quite frankly terrifying.  In cots, in beds, in car seats, in prams, in slings and even in their parents arms.  Although dubbed 'Cot Death' that is a misleading term for SIDS as SIDS doesn't discriminate, it can happen anywhere.

We now know that infants should not spend prolonged periods of time in a cars seat and should not be encouraged to nap/sleep in them.  We now know that you shouldn't co-sleep if you smoke or drink etc.  We now know that baby should be places in a cot with feet to the bottom, on their backs.

All we can do as parents is to assess risks and address them.  To make whatever we do as safe as possible.

It's like co-sleeping, when done safely it has many benefits yet rather then educate on how to do it safely, the media regale us with horror stories of bed sharing gone wrong.

It's potentially dangerous to cross a road, to travel in a car etc do we cease to do so or do we educate ourselves to minimise the risks?

My deepest and sincerest condolences go out to the parents of this baby and indeed to any parent who has suffered the agony of infant loss.  There are simply no words that can eradicate your pain.  Just the very existence of such tragedies chills me to the bones and makes my heart ache. 

I'm a babywearer.  Will I cease to do it?  No.  Will I babywear Moomin when she arrives?  Yes.

Am I being irresponsible?  No.  It's about being informed.  In my opinion the benefits to both mum and baby from babywearing, when combined with safety awareness, far outweigh the potential dangers.

So, once you've mastered a) putting the sling on and taking it off and b) putting baby in and taking it out again it's vital you familiarise yourself with TICKS.

Remember the babywearing ABC's:

Be it a wrap, ring sling, pouch or structured character baby should have a nice deep seat and together their bum and legs should create an 'm' shape as shown below:

Image from JPMBB

Your newborn will naturally assume a C shape of the spine curled up.  Until recently many recommended that when wearing your newborn you have them 'legs in' (froggied) yet research has now concluded that optimal positioning is legs out from birth.  Moomin was an incredibly curled up baby for many months yet even she was legs out happily:

Please also keep in mind that the 'cradle position' is no longer recommended nor safe to carry your baby.  Regardless of sling your newborn should be in a tummy to tummy position.

If you're at all worried about using your sling and would like some advice, please do look up your local trained Trageschule consultant or pop in to your local Sling Meet.

Useful links:

Research on positioning 
TICKS - for safe babywearing
Trageschule UK 
Sling Meet
Information on car seat safety for infants
Information on safe co-sleeping
Information on prevention of SIDS

On being a Co-Sleeper

“At some point in the night, a small sigh punctuates the darkness as her perfect hands knead and fetter upon my spine. I shift feeling her warmth, a jig-saw perfect fit as she completes me. Turning towards her, nimble fingers grab and need against me until she finds her bounty and settles into the slow rhythmic suckle of a midnight snack. Her perfection is like pure sunshine glittering on to the night. I love her. I tell her so. I tell her again in tender whispers. She murmurs back. She loves me too.

I still love her two hours later, and two hours after that. I just don’t like her as much those times.

I lay adrift in the night with only the digital display of the alarm clock for light as it mocks the passing of my life minute by minute. I fade into the lullaby of her breaths and wait for sleep or morning, which ever claims me first.
I should miss The Husband in my bed but I think I’d miss The Baby more. He shall share my bed until we’re creaking and old, until we sleep and do not wake and she shall share my bed until she sleeps through the night finally or drives me utterly insane, whichever comes first.” – - -

Taken from In the Still of the Night.

I’m tired. Bone tired.  Hell, lets go one better, I’m soul tired.  Yet I could be tireder (yes, I made that word

up).  Yes, The Toddler (I do realise I'm rather stretching the term Toddler here) still doesn't sleep through at 42 months, something that would appear to be more of a problem to other people than it is to me.  Yes, he still breastfeeds rather frequently including at times through the night.  Yes he’s still sleeping in my room, and golly gosh, even at times in my bed.  

Truth be told he’s always slept with me.  It just works.  He wakes and demands feeding, I roll over flop a boob in his general direction (yes flop, I know, forgive me for getting terribly technical) with my eyes still mostly closed whilst he fills his boots then with any luck rolls back over and goes to bloody sleep.  I could be getting out of bed all cold and wobbly from lack of sleep and stumble out of the room whilst he gets increasingly agitated and across the landing to settle him in another room, but evidently these huge metal rods I've made for my own back make it too hard to stand and walk…no wait….they allow me to stay nice and warm and snuggly in bed and save The Toddler getting unnecessarily upset.  Not to mention it has been vital to us when he's had breathing issues related to asthma, to know that my breathing is regulating his and I can keep an eagle eye on him throughout the night should he deteriorate.

In 2005, McKenna and Thomas McDade published a peer reviewed article called “Why babies should never sleep alone” in the journal Paediatric Respiratory Reviews (No. 6, 134-152) McKenna & McDade explain that baby primates are not meant to be isolated, and when they are, their lungs are likely to shriek out a protest: 

The emotional responses by infants and children
to resist parental isolation by crying and protesting are
probably innate and adaptive, since separation from the
caregiver most certainly meant rapid death for infants and
children in the environments within which childhood sleep
and emotions evolved.

But co-sleeping is like, dangerous! Babies can you know, die.

Right?

After all that’s what the tabloids tell us, so it must be true.  Even medical professionals are scare mongering and demonising an act which is actually biologically appropriate and when done safely can half the instances of SIDS.  They don’t tell you that bit though.  It’s also plays a rather significant roll in successful and extended breastfeeding, something that becomes terribly easier once you've learnt to do it lying down.

As  McKenna & McDade also explained in their paeiactric respiratory review:

"The general hypothesis that co-sleeping (at least in the
form of a committed caregiver’s proximity i.e,. roomsharing)
reduces SIDS among some SIDS prone infants is confirmed
by studies showing that roomsharing in the presence of an
active caregiver saves lives."

Saves lives, directly contradicting the general advice that co-sleeping is the devils work. 

There are different kinds of co-sleeping however and yet they lump them all together under a big ‘Don’t do it!’ sign.  The thing is though, people are going to do it regardless.  Many of them will do it without actually knowing that’s what they’re doing as they are too busy trying not to do it.  I've lost you there haven’t I? Stay with me, let me explain.  It’s the days of a new-born, who like a new-born should, wakes constantly and feeds a lot, cluster feeds.  Somewhere in mum’s mind she thinks how much easier it would be if she didn't have to get out of bed and get baby out of their cot to settle them but it stays in the back of her mind because we must not co-sleep.  The Health Visitor told us so.  The leaflets and posters told us not to.  The newspapers told us not to. Shut up an begone mothers instinct, you obviously know nothing. So she’s tired, close to tears tired, we've all been there.  Baby is crying, it feels like that’s all they do, constantly.  As soon as you put them back down, their  ‘I’m not attached to mummy’ radar goes off and with it their siren like wail.  So you sit in a chair with them or lie on the sofa with them whilst they sleep and inevitably nod off with them.  It’s okay though, it’s not a bed so you’re being good and not co-sleeping.  Only that is co-sleeping the only difference is if they were in a bed it would be infinitely safer.

Trying to discourage all co-sleeping practices because of co-sleeping mal-practises is like banning babies from travelling in cars because once a parent somewhere got drunk, didn't strap baby in a car seat and went for a drive.  Really, it’s that ridiculous.

There are some really simple rules to follow to make co-sleeping safe:

1)      Never ever sleep on a sofa/chair with baby.

2)      Don’t co sleep if you smoke

3)      Don’t co sleep if you've consumed alcohol

4)      Don’t co sleep if you've taken recreational drugs

5)      Don’t co-sleep if you are taking prescription drugs that make you drowsy or desensitise you.

6)      Don’t let baby use a pillow if under 12 months of age

7)      Don’t let a baby under 12 months share your duvet etc

The fact is, parents are going to co-sleep in one form or another at some point whether they mean to or even realise it’s what they’re doing yet sadly because of the demonization of it, not all of them will do it safely.  They're too busy hiding the fact they do it and absurdly feel shameful for doing something so utterly socially forbidden that they never seek advice on how to do it safely. That’s when we get the headlines of baby deaths ‘caused’ by co-sleeping. Note the ‘co-sleeping’ not bed sharing.  Bed sharing is a type of co-sleeping.  Often if you look deeper into the headlines you’ll find they weren't in a bed or the parent was inebriated or a smoker all absolute no-no's in co-sleeping safety.

Surely if it’s going to happen anyway we should work harder on educating on how to do it safely rather than scare mongering?  Knowledge is power.  Knowledge is safety.

But nah, because that would surely turn us all into raving hippies who weave our own knickers from lentils and braid our under arm hair.

One of the most valuable parenting tools we have is instinct, something which the media seems to be intent on beating into submission.  It's natural to feel attached to your infant, you're supposed to be (obviously there are exceptions to this such as PND which can repress instincts etc).  How many parents put their infant to bed and turn on the monitor just to feel connected to their baby?  Then routinely peek in to check on them throughout the evening and the night? Something inside you is letting you know you need to be close to them. Baby awakes and cries because you're not there, instinctively baby needs you to be there.

In countries like Japan where co-sleeping and breastfeeding are the cultural norm (and the lack of maternal smoking) SIDS rates are one of the lowest in the world.  Other countries who practice ecological nurturing don’t even have a word for SIDS as the instances of it are that low.

I could be an awful blog bore and not only stand on my little tie-dyed soapbox but could also dance on it too and dazzle you with the science like how co-sleeping actually stimulates babies own breathing patterns and heart functions as well as reducing their stress levels and regale you with all the benefits on physical, emotional and mental health for baby and parent.  I trust you though, we all know how to google-fu and just in case you’re sat there on a caffeine drip with a screaming baby playing nipple cripple on your tits I’ll even share a few links that make interesting reading:

http://www.marksdailyapple.com/co-sleeping-risks-benefits/#axzz2hUqqEs8Z

http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/families/article2115373.ece

http://neuroanthropology.net/2008/12/21/cosleeping-and-biological-imperatives-why-human-babies-do-not-and-should-not-sleep-alone/

Granted co-sleeping isn't for everyone, yet you can co-sleep without bed sharing. Even simply room-sharing has benefits and you can buy side car style cots, whatever floats your boat.

But what about the nooooookie?   

Firstly, you’re having sex? Just so we’re clear, I actually quite liked you up until now.  Seriously though, be creative….you have a whole home, use it. 

For what it’s worth Thing Two shared my room from birth until around 3.5 years and the transition into her own room? Effortless and absolutely painless.  Damn, where’s that rod gone?

Granted it's not without problems, such as him hogging my side of the bed should I dare escape for wee and arguing over which one of my pillows he wants to pinch.  Git.

Obviously it's not for everyone, if the thought of doing it makes you hyperventilate with worry, then don't do it.  It's supposed to lower stress levels not increase them.  However, should you want to do it, follow the guidelines of safe co-sleeping and enjoy.  Trust your instinct.

Why I'm still breastfeeding at 3.5

The Toddler is demanding 'meemee', again.  I'm trying to ignore it having calmly told him several times that he can have a cuddle/snack/bmw/vodka/pony instead, however he's now venomously shouting it in my face, you know, just in case I'm deaf as well as stubborn.'Meemee' is his obscure yet quaint self named word for boobs, which I suppose is somewhat more tolerable in public than Thing Two's screams for 'BOOBIES' though not as humorous.  Obviously Thing Two doesn't do that now, what with her being seven and having weaned at 2y9m.  The Toddler is 41.5 months old now and would still breastfeed 24/7 if access was allowed. There's so much that is misunderstood about extended breastfeeding.  On an average day he will feed in bed upon waking (yes we still co-sleep too, such a shame I can't weave...what with my abundance of lentils) for up to an hour depending on the time and how long I'm attempting to delay getting out of bed.  He'll then mostly be distracted when asking during the day with offers of snacks instead, or his favourate....icepops.  Sometimes in the afternoon we'll have a long snuggle on the sofa and he'll feed then it's again at bedtime.  He's been frightfully close to night weaning several times now with us agreeing before bed on no meemee's during the night, only cuddles.  Often this will work.  If he demands I persist with the 'no' yet should his anger turn to distress, I give in.  It's not that I'm a soft touch it's just I have to consider the rest of the household who're trying to sleep and the fact that regardless of why, if he needs the security of a sleepy feed rather than simply wanting it, it's my job as a mother to meet that need.  Besides, sometimes it really is anything for a quiet life.  Generally he's quite good at the count to five rule and at most it's down to 1-2 night feeds at most.  Although I'll readily admit at times the idea of night weaning the little sleep assassin is awfully tempting yet the fact remains, he's simply not ready and I respect that. It's not just about the physical nutrition, it's the emotional nutrition too. When they are ready, it's relatively effortless and trauma free.  That's how I want it to be, that's how weaning should be.

Until recently he's had a good  run at night, then he became ill, again.  It all goes back to the start when he's ill as he reverts to feeding constantly once more.  The milkbar becomes open all hours. However, as any parent will know it's awful seeing your child suffer and feeling so helpless being unable to alleviate their pain and misery.  One thing I can do is let him nurse on demand at these times.  It gives him the comfort he craves, keeps up his fluid levels and helps his immune system.  For you see, when The Toddler gets ill, he gets really ill.  He caught Thing Twos cough and cold, it sounds average enough yet whenever he gets ill like that, he goes downhill...quickly.  The year before last he must have had about 4 or 5 trips to A&E with a need for nebuliser and steroids.  Ghastly, frightening times. So it's a blessing to keep him close, even if it means staying awake throughout the night in a state of torment and paranoia, attempting to administer ventolin without him waking whilst constantly counting his breaths per minute just waiting for that moment when you know he has to be seen by a doctor.  It's like being on a knife edge not knowing whether he'll perk up or slip quickly downhill.  Thankfully this time, he turned a corner and started to perk up with just ventolin and plenty of breastfeeds.  I genuinely dread to think how we'd cope if he wasn't sleeping right next to me. However, it does mean we're back to square one again, with the night feeds, again.  Yet as I lie in the still of the night I learn to cherish these moments, because they won't last forever.  He needs this, he needs me.  I am his. I couldn't withhold something he evidently needs from me even if my life depended on it.

Did I think I'd still be breastfeeding him at 3.5? No. Do I love it? rarely. Do I hate it? sometimes (especially when the painters are in) Time is ticking, maybe once he turns four if he hasn't self weaned I may give weaning a gentle push.

However often it feels like history is repeating as just like with Thing Two sometimes I'll say no and he won't accept it, the anger turns to distress and I give in which in turn makes the initial no seem pointless.  It's like I made him cry, for nothing.  Still sometimes, it's good to separate want from need and act accordingly.

Am I looking forward to the eventual weaning? Absolutely! Will I miss it? Undeniably (sometimes!)

Changing Rooms

The time draws ever near to eviction, or so The Husband threatens though I'll admit I've done a terribly good job of evading it so far.  The Toddler, you have been evicted, please leave the big bedroom, is along the lines The Husband is thinking for you see, The Husband doesn't do co-sleeping so instead chooses to sleep on the sofa for several years.  However, seeing as he has decreed that The Toddler is indeed our last baby (can you hear my womb weep?  My eggs are trembling and distraught) I'm in no hurry to do anything and indeed am quite grateful that he appears to be a very young 3.5 yr old (unlike Thing Two who I often suspect was born a forty year old)  He doesn't sleep through yet and still breastfeeds throughout the night (& day).  Oh believe me I've attempted to remedy the latter yet it risks waking the entire county and I am loathe to force night weaning as when they're ready it is quite effortless, he obviously on some instinctive level needs it still and my job as a mother is to support his needs.  So to plant him in a room with Thing One or Two would hardly be fair on them.

The other thing The Husband conveniently neglects to consider is the nightmare logistics involved for you see it's not quite as simple as putting him in a room with a sibling.  It would make sense for The Toddler to share with Thing One (male, 9yrs) Yet to be blunt, they fight like cat and dog.  The there's Thing Two (female, nearly 7) who has the box room and is terribly pissed off that a) she has the box room b)cant share a room with me c) has to sleep alone.  Incidentally The Toddler rather adores Thing Two and when in the mood she is effortlessly brilliant with him.  Yet due to the obvious gender difference a long term solution of them sharing would probably be far from ideal so we've had the somewhat grandiose plan of letting The Toddler and Thing Two share for a few years then have The Toddler and Thing One share.  Still with me? terrific....because it doesn't stop there.

In order to action the plan it involves Thing One and Thing Two swapping bedrooms for a few years.  However, Thing One (unlike The Toddler who is rather partial to pink) point blank refuses to reside in a pink room.  Thing Two's room is, you've guessed it, pink.  Pink walls, pink curtains, pink blind and pink carpet. So firstly we'd have to redecorate the room, including replacing the carpet.  Then there's Thing One's lair, which is terribly scruffy with a bed that is literally held together by Heathen prayers and witchcraft.  We's need to redecorate this room too and then buy bunk beds with mattresses.  Bloody nora.  All this on a shoestring budget of erm....nothing.  Can you see my eyes rolling?  They're lodged in the back of my skull they rolled that far.

Thing One is vying for a red room, an absolute and definitive not on your fucking Nelly, seeing as he has The Husbands diabolical temper already.  Thing Two and The Toddler are rather hoping for orange.  Yes orange.  Indeed.  Do you see what I have to work with?

Thing Two would be immensely chuffed with a personalised room in some format seeing as the poor bugger has a gorgeous yet unique name meaning no personalised off the shelf adornments for her.  Ever. Oops.  Parent fail.  Sorry Thing Two, Sorry God (& Fuck you Coca Cola).  Granted there are many wonderful handmade customised things that are superbly darling yet frightfully out of budget that could perhaps be replicated had I a single craft bone within my being, which I don't. Not even a little one, not even at all. Arse.

Here comes my genius moment, are you ready?  Are you dazzled by the lightbulb beacon glowing above my head? Stencils.  Yes, stencils.  How utterly brilliant is that and before you get overexcited about the prospect of me artfully making such things.  Stop.  Remember?  I'm craft inept.  So it's lucky there are places out there such as Stencil Warehouse who you guessed it, sell pre-made stencils.  I'm thrilled, how is it for you?  Better still, they do Alphabet Stencils.  I have images of stenciling her name, emblazoned across an entire wall in her room, with the aid of spray cans, which seem infinitely more fun and easier then brushes, right?  I could even expand on that with a flurry of stenciled butterflies around it then The Toddler can have a transport theme and his name stenciled on another wall.  Jobs a good 'un.  How wrong could this possibly go? Sometimes, I amaze myself with my own genius.  I think I need a sit down and a large gin to recover.

The only problem would be The Husband having to restrain me from erm.... 'decorating' the rest of the house seeing as the possibilities are endless...my artistic vision renders me so misunderstood.

Yet for now, The Toddler will remain with me with our night time cuddles and the lullaby of his little breaths soothing my soul whilst The Husband, with prickly stubble and gnarly feet, can remain downstairs a while longer.

The Toddler

Because it's been a while and they're so small for such a remarkably heart breaking short amount of time within which they undergo so many changes and really do light up our days, I figured it was about time for another post dedicated to him.

I suppose technically he's The Preschooler now what with him turning three, yes three, next month.  Excuse me whilst I weep.  No really.  Seeing as The Husband is most clear in his 'No more babies' line, The Toddler is my last beloved little person and I find the dramatic pace at which he's growing up terribly alarming whilst my womb positively wails 'please sir, can we have some more?'

Next month he will be three.  So far we've been breastfeeding for 35 months.  He's not worn any kind of nappy for around seven months now (he pee's at the toilet, standing on his tippee toes!, In an absurd way it's incredibly cute).  He still doesn't sleep through.  We still co-sleep.  He talks more and more every day, we understand about 75% of it, he often has to resort to charades to enlighten us with his insights and demands.  He is undeniably friendly and incredibly polite, not a door opened for us goes without him chirping 'thank-you!' He has a rather extensive and amusing amount of quirky idiosyncrasies already.  He genuinely is a beautiful, charming, funny, sarcastic little sunbeam.

A few toddlerisms from him lately:

Whilst we were out and about and he was as usual in the Wompat on my back, we could hear the noisy chorus of birds around us to which he repeatedly shouted with increasing irritation 'SHUT UP TWEET TWEETS! SHUT UP!'

The day before this whilst once again high up on my back in the sling we caught him trying to physically reach up and pluck an aeroplane from the sky.  Bless.

Just last night, at bedtime, The Husband was lovingly trying to read another book to him when The Toddler shut it half way and declared 'The End' followed by 'Get bent **** (He still refuses to call him Daddy/Dad and insists on always calling The Husband by his first name.  He's always done this) Go away.' Charming!

He is still insistent on foraging for his own food and frequently raids the cupboards and even drags his little stool in the kitchen on the sly so he can raid the fridge which often results in me finding little gems like this in the fridge.....

Whilst chatting about his upcoming birthday:

Me to h: 'what do you want for your birthday?'
The Toddler: 'Robot!'
Me: 'anything else?'The Toddler: 'Chocolate cake!!!!'Me: 'anything else?'The Toddler: 'Doughnuts!'Me: 'okay, anything else?'The Toddler: 'A cow.'[pause]The Toddler: 'and a clipclop!!!'Okay, that's that sorted then.....

He still adores dressing up, twirling in tutu's, rolling his eyes at you in complete disdain and attempting to control Things 1 & 2.  He frequently calls out for 'elf rescue!' and is fabulous at fighting The Husband should he dare to bug me.

Best go, he's just tried to cover up his intrusion on Things 1& 2 upstairs with a rather sweet 'Goodbye my friends! My best friends!' as he zooms down the stairs at 80mph on his arse.

Of wee and The Sleep Bandit

The bloody cat is incredibly close to being put in the microwave. I caught her pissing up the bath side and on a towel, the pesky house dwelling little shit. She usually does this when on heat and it is the sole reason she is barred from the lounge. However, judging by the significant lack of wailing and yowling like a wanton whore whilst rawling around in readers wives style I'm thinking she's doing it more out of spite.

Anti bacterial wipes, tea tree oil, fresh lemons (allegedly a deterrent) and even bloody lynx spray later and the house still hums of nasty l'eau de cat piss. Great. Just dandy.

If only that was the extent of my woe, if only I tell you.

Then comes The Toddlers latest antics as his role as a trainee sanity assassin.  Having been virtually dry during the day for several weeks he has decided to piss on the floor. Huge great big Willy floods. Despite being dry at nap times and virtually dry during the night.  Trying to ignore it and pretending to not be even slightly perturbed as I adopt that irritating high pitched mummy voice through gritted teeth 'oh dear darling, nevermind, mummy will just clean this up off the floor because we will wee in the potty or toilet next time won't we?' Whilst my internal narrator hisses 'for fuck sake, are you trying to piss me off, that is just vile you cretinous toddler?' This is combined with returning to type and waking every 60-120minutes throughout the night lately.

Then came Friday, Friday was supposed to be trampoline day. Both sets of grandparents clubbed together for Thing One and Thing Two's birthdays and bought them a surprise present to share, an 8ft trampoline. We have purposely been stashing it at The Grandparents so we could erect it on Friday which marks the middle point between their birthdays. So what happens Thursday? Thing One hurts his ankle resulting in a trip to A&E on Friday. Bugger. He has to apparently 'rest' it for two to three weeks and even I'm not mean enough to give him a trampoline when he can't use it. However, if he keeps being a little sod, my stance on this could very well change.

Even the rain is wrong. Rather than pelting it down rhythmically its all crappy and just a constant hiss of sheer bloody wetness that won't even lull you to sleep.

That's assuming you are lucky enough to get any sleep and just so we're clear, if you do....I don't much like you at present. I'm neither compassionate nor nice. Upon hearing The Husband snoring all oblivious in blissful slumber downstairs on the sofa, whilst I stew in a sleep deprived homicidal psychosis, rather then be happy for The Husband, I have to sit on my hands to prevent myself stumbling downstairs to pull out his eyelashes and hold a match to his toe hair.

However according to The Husband he has no iota of sympathy as I 'choose' to breastfeed and cosleep so thus being so, I therefore choose to have no sleep or at the very least deserve it. 

My children made me ugly. Never mind beauty sleep, any would be nice.

It's a good job the little sleep bandits are cute.