Oh seriously, child, go to sleep. You didn’t want your milk so lets go back to sleep.
Yes, I appreciate the shadow on the wall is fascinating. But its two am and we both need to sleep.
I know that doesn’t make you happy. Please stop wailing. There is no one in this time zone who wants to hear it. Perhaps if I rock you for a few minutes.
Yes, I love you dearly but sleep my child, sleep. You don’t like the rocking, do you like the bouncing? Apparently not. If you don’t like either of those, how about upright against my shoulder? No don’t bite, sweetheart. Perhaps sort of seated against me as we walk around the darkened room and I break my neck on the play gym. No, apparently not. Back to rocking. No, sweetheart, don’t arch your back. Because eventually this will cause me to abandon you in your room and go back to my own. Whatever it is I’m doing wrong, its not deliberate. Oh child… seeeeeeeeeriously.
Please close your eyes. Please, please, please. No, don’t grab mummy’s face. Or hair. Or pyjama top. No, gentle hands, darling, gentle hands. No. Not. The. Face. Child.
Sssssssshhhhhhhh, sweet pie, sssssssssshhhhhhh.
Nothing, oh nothing is working. He’s just awake. Horribly horribly awake.
Are you sure you don’t want your milk, sweetie? Are you not hungry? Lets just try it (a little more forcefully). No, don’t play with the bottle, child. Hands out the way. No, child, honestly – if you squeeze the bottle teat like that you cover mummy in milk. Seriously, darling, I will strap your hands down if I have to.
Oh, at last, bless you child, thats it, drink the milk… keep drinking. Yes, I know mummy is breaking the cardinal rule of ‘don’t feed the child to sleep’ but its now half two and I am falling asleep on my feet. Drink, my child, to sleepy drunk and happy dreams.
Night night baby. Night Night. And please please stay asleep when I move you from my arms to your cot. Please.