I've heard of scaring the shit out of something yet The Cat has decided to scare the shit back into The Kitten, literally.  Whilst The Kitten dared to attempt a maximum dumpus in the litter tray, The Cat parked herself blocking the exit with a deep rumbling growl neither ladylike nor sexy, not that I'd know what exactly constitutes female sexiness in cat world seeing as I'm neither a horny tom cat nor a lezza female cat yet I suspect it's more about fluid and holes than growling and swiping.  Unless they're married.  Do cats even get married?  In private back alley cermonies of fluff?

The Kitten is sporting a few war wounds currently, nothing terribly sinister, just a few scratches.  I suppose The Cat probably has some too yet being a kinky 50-shades of black and a tad fluffier they're not as visible.  The Kitten is either a little masochist or a sycophantic fool for when she's not following The Cat, she's pouncing her.  Bloody woman.  Fighting like cat and dog is so misleading,  The Cat would batter The Dog and he'd take it yet since his premature departure and the arrival of The Kitten several months later it would appear that Cat on Cat fights are far worse.  Though despite the growls it's terribly girly, all handbags at dawn and bitch slapping.

It's late again and I'm predictably knackered, more so with it having been a Tuesday which is our 'busy day' yet in typical sods law, Insomnia is having an extended unwelcome visit.

It's eerily silent other than the subtle breaths of The Toddler next to me and the sounds of The Husband belching from downstairs.  Or it should be silent, if only my head was silent.  It's such a messy noise in there.

Enough drivel for one evening, it's time to attempt operation wee which no doubt will include The Toddler following me, again.  Not to wee, just to sit half asleep on the bathroom floor whilst I wee.  I don't think he trusts me to wee on my own.

He told me today that he only likes girls and not boys, he conveniently ignored me when I reminded him that he's a boy.

Oh bollocks, he just kicked me in his sleep.  Git.

Here's hoping for a repeat of the Mr Skarsgard dream from the other night, wetter than the rain I tell you.

Night Stalker.

It's that time of night again, when I'm terribly fackered (yes, I made that up less of a mouthful than fucking knackered) yet unable to sleep.  The Husband has gone out and left the television downstairs on so all I can hear is Peppa Pig, I hope The Kitten is at least enjoying it.  The ridiculously short battery life of my wee netbook is decreasing at an alarming rate and I fear if I rummage for the charger I'll trip over something and break my neck in the dark  I haven't seen my bedroom carpet in months and the debris is akin to quicksand. The thought of exploring it in the dark is a little too white-knuckle-esque for me.

The Toddler is fast asleep next to me having delayed going to sleep with a story, a song, an impromptu trip to the loo for a ripe old shit and implorations for his beaker of water to be refilled all interjected with plenty of breastfeeding.  Still I suppose the subtle lullaby of his sleepy breaths is a tad more enchanting than his vitriolic arguments with The Spawn and his protestations of absolute innocence at anything he may stand accused of having committed in the court of family.

I'm stuck between a double rock and a hard place.  I can't sleep until I know Thing Two is asleep, she has insomnia you see.  However, she'll wait until I manage to extricate myself from the The Toddler to go pee to suddenly pounce and attempt to delay my return to The Toddler (who's chances of waking up increase with every second I'm AWOL) with an insistent stream of random questions and requests.  The other  part  of the double rock and hard place is The Toddlers recent freaky ability to awaken from deepest slumber the instant I attempt to do a runner and refuses to be placated whilst insisting he simply must accompany me.  So whilst sat on the loo, he sits/lays on the bathroom floor in groggy silence, eyes heavy with sleep near rolling in their sockets as his groggy brain creates a speech bubbles that simply says 'Huh?' Then he'll drag an stumble back to bed and go back to sleep as if he'd never woken up.  Even at night I can't piss alone! Still, he usually goes straight  back to sleep without a feed unless of course The Husband attempts to 'help' and comes upstairs to chat to him whilst he waits thus pulling him from grogginess and ensuring I have to start the whole bedtime breastfeed shebang all over again.  Thanks Husband, Love you too.  Still not entirely convinced I'm terribly enthused about the swapping of several night feeds to being stalked.

I'm fantasising about the bottle of Cider that I've had in the fridge for months, or at least I was until I unfortunately remembered it was removed from the fridge to make room for something else and even to one as desperate as I appear to be, warm cider is a little too close to piss in a bottle.  Still, I could however use the bottle to beat Peppa Pig into submission, why is she even awake still? Suddenly I'm salivating for a bacon butty.

Are you getting any?

It seems that everyone is getting some, every night even. Maybe you're having it in the bedroom or perhaps you're a little more daring and getting some in a tent or a cheeky hotel stay, maybe you're desperate and doing it on the kitchen table.  Not that i'm jealous or anything but for anyone who's getting more than me (and lets face it, that's hardly a difficult achievement) I'd like to take this opportunity to politely say; I hate you.  I admit it, I'm jealous. Hideously so, and jealousy is such an

ugly thing. Still, how very dare you be getting Some sleep when I am blatantly getting so little.

 My name is Mama Undone, i'm 30-something and I still don't sleep through the night despite sometimes being left alone to inwardly scream and cry.  Maybe I should be someone more dramatic like Mama totallyunfuckingravelled.

I won't tell a lie, it's killing me. The restless racing mind of mental illness married with rampant insomnia whilst having an affair with M.E does not a good love triangle make.  Throw into this my small self-made army of sleep assassins and I'm dreaming of drugging to sleep, them or me however? such a choice.  No I jest.  I wouldn't do that.  Honest.  Chloroform is much more my style....

So it's getting to that weird Twilight hour of night when you've watched every possible music video you can think of on YouTube and have somehow ended up watching some random hillbilly dance on his porch with an obese skunk so, in your desperation, you embark on a search of brain bleach to erase aforementioned video. You resort to Google in the hope of replenishing your Chloroform stock and end up on the rather more socially acceptable sleeping tablets section of Medicines 2U Online Chemist (have I ranted lately about my absolute horror at the ever increasing use of gringlish? no? oh I do believe you're in for a treat with that future blog post)  Now due to me co-sleeping still and yes my three year old does still breastfeed night and day, sleeping pills are an obvious no no and the lavender oil isn't quite cutting it. Instead of drifting into a blissful state of relaxation I remain homicidal and antisocial smelling of my Nanna whilst plotting generic death, destruction and justice.  However, to the casual insomniac you really shouldn't be quick to judge the more naturalistic approach, Lavender has been used successfully by many as a relaxant and sleep aid for hundreds of years and if there is one essential oil you should have this is the one it has a whole host of invaluable benefits.  It's okay, it won't dread your hair against your will or make you weave your own undercrackers from lentils.  You can even wear a disguise whilst you order it online if it makes it easier to dip into the natural end of medicine.   Or you could just compromise and try something like this which is more mainstream crunchy.  My point is, if you've tried the warm bath, windows open, warm milk and such approaches and the CD of nature sounds you bought in desperation from that patchouli scented psychic just makes you want to get up and have a piss yet you aren't quite at the hardcore begging your doctor to sedate you stage, there are many over the counter alternatives available, many of which take advantage of what nature can offer.  What do you have to lose, seriously?  You're losing sleep anyway.  





One day, i'll book myself into a hotel, purely to sleep in peace. All day.

One day, when The Spawn are all grumpy teenagers I shall delight in waking them....lots.

In the meantime however, i'll  count sheep......lavender scented sheep.  It's okay sometimes night is my dearest friend, in the wise words of Poppy Z Brite from one of my favourate novels "“I believe in whatever gets you throught the night. [...] Night is the hardest time to be alive. For me, anyway. It lasts so long, and four A.M.knows all my secrets.” " /// “Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness.” 



Disclaimer: You really should consult your doctor if you have a chronic sleeping problem and always always exercise caution if you take a supplement or medication to help you sleep and never take any if you co-sleep or breastfeed without okaying it with your health care practitioner.