Too Tired To Think of a Title

Last night I was sitting, numb from the waist down, on a wafer thin mattress that takes up the entire floor space of my microscopic lounge room.

In my arms, was my sweet little Tricky boy, damp and clammy from too many tears and endless cuddles.

He would only sleep in my arms if I sat up... laying down was not an option

One year in to this caper and I'm still not entirely sure what to do when he becomes so distressed. He's not really much of a crier (a whinger though, definitely) and is generally easy to settle; cuddles, kisses, sometimes a lullaby.

So when he starts screaming with unrivaled intensity and special milky cuddles can't fix it, I feel useless.

I sing louder, pat firmer, jiggle more...and it doesn't help. The crying continues. I am completely and utterly obsolete. It's been almost a year since I've felt quite like this.

In the dark, I add my own salty tears to the mix. Sometimes they're sad, 'I wish I knew how to help you' tears; sometimes they're 'Mama has had two hours of sleep' tears.

They slowly drop on to his head and for a moment our tears mingle before I wipe them away and apologize.

Apologize for crying; for not being able to help; for not being able to figure out what's wrong and make it all go away.

So I do what I can. I snuggle in and stroke his sweaty brow until he finally calms and falls in to a fitfull sleep in my arms, where he stays, for the next six hours.

He wakes often to cry out and snuggle in even deeper; cling on to me tighter than I can ever remember, before getting up and playing with his blocks like nothing was ever wrong.

How he can have so much energy after so little sleep? I can barely keep my eyes open, even with toothpick props. Today is most definitely going to be a pyjama day.

Me after a long night

Tricky after a long night