Articles for Mums

Sleep Deprivation by Lisa Cole

My legs get heavier with every step I take. My eyes grate around in their sockets and one eye has a regular nervous twitch. I am a husk, a dried out shell and everything aches. All I want is sleep. Friends call to ask me out; I'd rather sleep. I am argumentative, grumpy, irrational and can't concentrate. Sleep deprivation is affecting my relationships and my parenting skills; I don't give a moo for Old McDonald right now. After a run of sleeping for 4 to 5 hours at a stretch, my son got a fever and last night was screaming hell. I slept in half hour chunks, woken abruptly by an inconsolable boy who yelled for what seemed like hours. I got angry and had to leave the room before I shouted at him to 'go to sleep, please just go to sleep.' I don't normally shout at him and I feel terrible now because it is not his fault.

In a coffee shop, having a hard time choosing a drink, I feel I have to justify my scattiness. 'He was up all night' I explain. I earn sniggers and giggles and feel as if no one believes what absolute torture it is. Other mums look at me vaguely, their child has always slept through, no bother at all. I tell myself that their child is extremely dull, unlike mine who has never slept that well. I tell myself that it's because my child is so active and so bright but in truth I know that it's just the luck of the draw, some kids sleep, some don't. After a couple of nights of erratic broken sleep, insomnia sets in. I get overtired, my mind full of must do's and my body restless. I can't get to sleep in case I get woken up. He could sleep for 10 minutes or 4 hours, there is no way of telling. And anyway, I am a mother and surely I should be on duty 24 hours a day? No I shouldn't! I need to look after myself so I can look after my child.

Here is a list of things that help me cope with lack of sleep:

• If I let him sleep on me I can't rush round and do dishes/paint hallway/clean the bath/achieve world domination. Even if I don't sleep when he is at least I am resting.
• I learnt that babies cry in their sleep sometimes and often go back to sleep again quickly, on their own. He doesn't want to be cuddled at ever moan he makes.
• I don't beat myself up about how little I manage to do, instead I praise myself for existing on so little sleep.
• Prioritise sleep. When you get a chance, nap!
• Get someone to look after the baby for a set time. You are more likely to rest if you know how much time you have. If they can take the baby out for a walk you will not be listening out for it all the time.
• If you get time to yourself, make sure you rest, have a long bath, read a book or watch some mindless TV. Do not do housework!
• Lavender is supposed to help you relax,
• Try to avoid coffee because it will only give you a short boost and may stop you from sleeping later in the day.
• Cut down on daily tasks. Not everything needs to be ironed, older kids and some men can be taught to tidy up and dirty dishes don't matter.

Shaitsu by Lisa Cole

Its weird how relaxing it can be to lie there while someone waves your leg in the air. Some years ago I started having Shiatsu sessions to compensate myself for the particularly awful job I was in, it was the usual kind of thing, too much responsibility and not enough money. Id shuffle in to my session on a Friday afternoon, with a brain full of bitchiness and bickering and an hour later Id float out, completely empty headed. Fabulous!

Yoga is relaxing, so is Tai Chi but they both require active participation, you actually have to move your body and concentrate on what is going on so you dont fall over. Shiatsu, however requires you to do nothing, your job is to flop your limbs and let someone else do the work. The word Shiatsu means pressure with fingers, though in a session a practitioner can use their feet, palms, elbows, thumbs, fingers or arms to release trapped vital energy or Ki. Its the same sort of principal as acupuncture without the spiky things. You lie fully clothed, on a futon in a dimly lit room, to be prodded, stretched and freed from tension.

Shiatsu was great throughout my pregnancy, it kept me supple and suppressed my morning sickness. A month before the birth my lovely Shiatsu lady trained my bloke to use key pressure points to help me in labour. When he said casually "this is supposed to open your cervix all my cynicism and scepticism vanished, it worked, and it worked fast. I had a relatively quick, drug free birth and instead of feeling in the way, my bloke played an active part in the great occasion. I still have regular Shiatsu sessions, now to mend a back that aches from hefting a seven month old limpet boy around, to straighten shoulders slumped from breastfeeding him and to alleviate the stress of sleep deprivation.

After Shiatsu I feel more comfortable in my body. I feel as if all my bones are in the right place and my mind is no longer a trap for useless niggles. I drift dreamily home and I am a nice person for at least 24 hours afterwards.

Clutter by Lisa Cole

I have a theory that the contents of cupboards bubble and seethe, spreading out tentacles of tat to their brother cupboards. Their master plan is to engulf the entire house so that no carpet is left uncovered, and no doors can be opened without the contents bursting out. I was at this stage when I counted my trousers. I had 71 pairs. My wardrobe at the time extended to bin bags and boxes so it took me some time to get them all in one place. Eventually there they all were, a CV in cloth, a history of boyfriends, nights out, jobs, holidays, jumble sales and misguided bargain buys I had never worn. Thirty pairs were too small, 20 pairs plain hideous, 4 pairs too big, 5 pairs too good to wear hence they never got worn. Twelve pairs fitted me and 6 of these were regularly worn.

It was fairly easy coming to terms with the fact that I would never be a size 10 again and I reckoned that if I ever got to size 12 I would be out buying new clothes with all the money I had saved by not eating. The ugly trousers were no problem to say goodbye to, along with embarrassing memories of wearing them. The big trousers went, as I didn't know I was going to be pregnant in a few years, damn. The smart trousers were tricky, they represented a lifestyle I aspired to, where cats didn't wee in hallways, houses didn't need radical renovations and dishes got washed by someone else. They were the sort of trousers I would never get a chance to wear unless it was to an interview and even then I'd be worried about spilling something down them. I kept them for another year before admitting to myself that I was not the sort of person that needed that many smart clothes.

The great trouser cull got me started and I spent months systematically sorting and getting rid of stuff I'd hoarded for years. I piled clothes on the bed and invited friends around to take what they wanted on the strict instructions they were not to show me what they had taken nor utter the phrase 'Are you sure you want to get rid of this?' My paperwork was pruned to one small box from a 4 drawer filing cabinet and I completely empted two rooms in my two bedroom house. Admittedly I got a bit carried away and threw away my birth certificate and a savings book by accident but on the whole I wasn't missing stuff at all. It was great to be able to find things again. Around the time I had reached a minimalistic plateau my boyfriend moved in with his collection of empty and clean takeaway containers, several computers and boxes of computer innards, more books, clothes, bedding.......stuff that was way out of my jurisdiction.

And then later came the baby with his boxes of toys, piles of nappies, clothes to be washed, hung out, brought in, put away, put on.... It's a loosing battle. I still try to keep the clutter down. I only let myself by things if they are useful, but this rule is pretty bendy. I hand on baby clothes regularly and try to throw away empty takeaway containers without being detected, but I know I'm doomed to failure. I know that soon I will have a messy pile of my child's artistic creations, it will be impossible to throw out his first shoes and we will need a bigger house. I am now the owner of 10 pairs of trousers and most of them get worn sometimes. I have not counted my jumpers.