Confessions of a sleep-deprived mum

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When T’s poorly his sleep goes to sh*t. The snuffly noises he made when he was breathing and his sad little cries melted my heart, and my broken sleep was interspersed with lovingly trying to make my little man feel better. All he wanted was Mummy cuddles and boob.

My alarm went off at 5.30 am and, clumsy and bleary-eyed, I got ready for work. Now I hated the world and everything in it. Especially my husband who had slept through it all. Bast*rd.

I got my poorly boy into his car seat. Now he was bright eyed and chuckling, the poorliness of the darkness forgotten.

Turning to get out of our car park I misjudged the angle and caught the corner of our neighbour’s house with the side of my car. Hard. There was an awful crunching bang as the car rebounded from the impact.

I stopped the car and reached over to straighten out the wing mirror that had folded over. I paused for a moment, considering my options.

I started the engine and drove away. I didn’t check whether anyone had seen.

It was such a loud bang I was sure someone would have seen what happened. I imagined my neighbour’s furious reaction as he stood at the window, watching me drive away.

I knew I must have caused a lot of damage.

I had to own up and face the consequences.

I rationalised that no one would want someone knocking on their door at 6.30 in the morning to say they’d crashed a car into their house, it could wait until the evening. Plus there can’t have been that much damage, I was driving at 10mph for god’s sake.

It was a long and busy day at work. After finishing nearly an hour late, I drove to collect T from my parents. On the way home I had the horrible sinking feeling of being summoned to the headmaster’s office.

Apology bottle of wine in hand, I rang my neighbour’s doorbell. He couldn’t have been nicer or more understanding, saying that he’d done the exactly the same thing before (twice). The damage to his wall was minimal. There was a little silver paint on the corner and a few chipped bricks.

Unfortunately I can’t say the same for my car. It’s dented and scraped and the door creaks when you open it. It’s f*cked and would probably take a grand’s worth of fixing. We don’t need to fix it though, I’m sure it adds character…

Cheer me up please, I can’t be the only one: what’s the worst thing you’ve done when sleep-deprived?

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Best of Worst

16 thoughts on “Confessions of a sleep-deprived mum

  1. Sarah HP

    Oh no! I had a shocker getting to work after a broken night with one of the boys. I was cycling as fast as I could as I was already late. I got to a pedestrian crossing (with no pedestrians) the lights were about to change but I went through a fraction too early. I got pulled over by a PCSO and was issued a fixed penalty notice for £50. Gutted!
    Sarah HP recently posted…Things I do that annoy my husbandMy Profile

  2. Min

    Oh no! Luckily, I don’t drive (though I am planning to learn. At some point) so I don’t have any driving horror stories to share. Going to work sleep-deprived is pretty hideous though, especially as I am a secondary school teacher so the kids take no prisoners! #bestandworst
    Min recently posted…Piglet Takes First Steps. Mummy Misses It.My Profile

    • Helen Post author

      The thought of standing up in front of a classroom of teenagers after a bad night’s sleep sounds utterly terrifying, although saying that, I’d be terrified after a solid 8 hours too!

  3. Elizabeth (Wander Mum)

    Thanks for confessing and making me feel better! This is something I have experienced before – more than once and on the road I live on! One time I misjudged my distance from a skip! You can imagine who came off worse! You did a great deed by fessing up Shame about your car though #bestandworst

  4. Rosie Love

    Oh dear!
    I once went to cash out of the cash machine, took my card out and left the cash! Only when I was paying did I realise and of course by the time I got outside someone had taken it 🙁 it was a sad frustrating day!
    Rosie Love recently posted…Just a vestMy Profile


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