I'm a mummy! Get me out of here!

I really should re-title this blog

'The Cautionary Tale of MsB from Bulli.
Or Reasons you should get yourself sterilised NOW'

I promise that I shall refrain from sharing my own private parenting hell with you from now on... that is, after I've detailed The Night That Was...

I do believe that I have just had one of the worst nights' sleep possible. We're trying to wean the twins off dummies. It had been working quite well. I thought they had responded positively to the rational argument I had presented:

Me: You're Big Girls Now! Big Girls don't need dummies... Don't you agree...?
Them: Biggurls! Biggurls!
Me: OK, that's settled then.

Now, things went swimmingly for a few days - no dummies, sleeping babes. And then someone who shall remain nameless (Hey Mum! Your first blog mention) decided that she was going to give them dummies when they slept over at Granny's. Then MrB further undermined my authority... This led to a complete rejection of MsB's New World Order - the World without dummies...

Last night I put my foot down. No More Dummies. The twins fell asleep quite easily. The Miss I woke up. And whined. And whinged. And grizzled. Incessantly. This carried on from about 8pm. I was in bed, tired out from a session with my counsellor. I ignored her for a while. I went in and told her to stop being a baby, and to go to sleep (strangely, this appeal to her better judgement didn't work). MrB came and took her downstairs to see if he could calm her down. He couldn't. It was now 9:30. We had a teeny tiny spat as to whether Miss I was going to get a dummy. I won. She missed out.

The whining is at a particular pitch. A pitch designed to pass through two solid wood doors. And two pillows that had been strategically placed on my head. The whining increases in intensity until you feel your whole body is responding to the sound, as if your heart beat had been replaced by the harsh and grizzling noise. The crying would stop for brief periods... but my soul had become so dependant on the sound, that I would lie there, waiting for it to start again...

By 12:15, the frustration and exhasution had given way to a strange calmness. I became a detached, scientific observer of the process. Just how long would this damn child keep going..? Was it possible for her to whine all night? And at 1:30 I realised - yes it was bloody possible. MrB came to bed around 2am, and she finally went to sleep. I guess her limit is 6 bloody hours of non-stop moaning. Yay! What an achievement!

I'm exhausted. I'm cranky. I would suggest no-one piss me off today.

And: you want to know the weirdest thing? Miss O's head was less than a metre away from Miss I's screaming maw, and she didn't stir once...