I'm not a particularly angry person, but prolonged sleep deprivation can really take its toll on a person's stocks of cheeriness.
I've come to the conclusion that what I would really like if the laws of time/physics/reality did not apply is this: I'd like to lash out at anyone who annoyed me. If only, just for one day I could lash out either verbally or physically I really don't mind which, and for there to be no consequences. Kind of a Groundhog Day set up whereby I'd have the satisfaction of releasing my rage without any long term consequences. I could do what I want, say what I want, essentially be Larry David for the day.
It's probably not the healthiest thing to wish for, but the heart wants what the heart wants. I think it would be a great release for all the times in the past year that I have refrained from punching people who have annoyed me.
Here are all the things I would've said:
1. To the women (literally hundreds at this stage) who asked me if I was "feeding him myself":
"No, I've outsourced all his feeds to this amazing lactating cat I've got. Now go away and stop asking strangers about their tits."
2. To my mother-in-law who asked "why is that child crying?" when my son was two weeks old and had been crying for the entire two weeks:
"I don't know, but your son implanted that thing in me, and now it's here you need to take at least some of the responsibility for this."
3. To my neighbour's dog, who barks continuously as he walks past my house, four times every day:
"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."
4. To the woman who told me that I should try to get my non-sleeping son into a routine as if I had been completely rejecting the notion of a routine all this time. As if I haven't been methodically and precisely replicating the bedtime of the night before for the past 386 days:
There are no words...I might just kick her in the shins and run away.
5. To my childless friends who complain about how exhausted they are:
"F****ccccccckkkkkkk you! Come back to me after 16 months of broken sleep, dealing with another person's bodily functions and heavy lifting. Then we'll talk."
6. To my co-diners at breakfast the other day:
"I'm sorry that my son dropping cutlery on the floor is causing you such grievous irritation, but giving him cutlery to drop, then handing it back to him, so that he can drop it once more is the trade off I have to make in order to sit here and enjoy my bloody Mary. So deal."
7. To the random women at the shops or in the street who feel the urge to tell me constantly "that child is tired" or "that child is hungry" or "that child is cold":
"Oh my god you are so right. These throwaway observations have proven that you're a better mother to him than I could ever be. Please, take him. Take him and give him the life that I could never give him."
8. To my mother who made me build a fort out of menus the first time I breastfed in public:
"Get a grip. Our poorly constructed fort is more offensive then my breasts."
9. To my husband who suggested that a playsuit three weeks postpartum was not my best look:
"I look better in a playsuit three weeks postpartum than you have EVER looked in a pair of shorts... and yes you are right, the playsuit is a no go."
10. Finally to any of the many, many randomers who offered assistance or kind words over the past year:
"Thanks" and *sob*
