SHE-DEVIL NEEDS A MATE

After almost four years, my son is finally sleeping through the night. I no longer have to hold his hand, lay on his bed, sing lullabies, commando crawl out of his room or listen to his wailing cries for me. Hallelujah!

Now it’s a much more civilised routine. I sit on a corner chair. We chat about our day, I answer the same nightly question of why rabbits hop and in twenty minutes he’s fallen asleep. No more drama!

What changed? I grew a backbone. I stopped caving in because it was the path of least resistance. I kept my butt glued to that corner chair and did my best to ignore the cries. It took about three weeks of persistence on my part before he accepted this was the new norm. Reaching new development milestones and growing that wee bit older would have been a contributing factor too. Plus, we made a fire engine dream catcher specifically to get rid of all those terrible dreams.

My body and brain needed about two weeks to readjust and not automatically wake to check on the kids.

In the last week, especially with the bursitis in my shoulders and hip beginning to improve, I have begun sleeping through the night. It’s a relief! I feel almost normal again. A good night’s sleep does wonders for the mental health.

Imagine my absolute horror when two nights ago, I woke to the screeching and growling sounds of a monster outside my bedroom window! A red-eyed, mangy fur, sharp-clawed, razor-like teeth monster called a possum… in heat.

What the heck? I’m finally permitted into the Land of Nod and what happens? I’m violently ejected at three in the morning every night because the resident possum needs to get laid. Come on! Why my tree? Why?!

I feel like I’m getting pranked. Like a group of higher beings are watching my life through a fish bowl and thought it might be funny to f@#k with me a bit more. You know, to see what it will take to break me.

Don’t they say that the path through misery is pain? So now I wait for she-devil to find her mate.

What’s next I wonder? Feral cats yowling and paw punching over my scrap of a courtyard? Roof rats deciding to move into the space over my head? Sounds quite possible.

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