I miss the sandman, I miss dreaming, I miss dribbling on my pillow.
When I became pregnant, my ability to easily sleep, jumped out of the window and ran away.
Since having Phoebe who is somewhat of a sleep thief, I find myself more and more acting like a character out of a David Lynch script.
My eye bags look like they have won supermarket sweep and my concealor has become as vital as oxygen.
I struggle to reduce her night feeds, this girl is not easily tricked and prefers milk whilst sleepy. And as someone who works with children I often give out the advice. Oh the irony.
I don’t want to be the walking dead, I need energy for this solo voyage I am on.
I am thankful that she goes to bed at 7 and I get time to myself, otherwise I think we may need to start seeing other people,