The Sleep of the Damned

Once upon a time, when I was little, I used to sleep. Not so much during the day, but I would regularly indulge in a good seven or eight hour stretch every night - hell- one crazy night I even slept for ten hours! But then when I was about 12 weeks old, I learnt the joy of keeping Mummy up at night. Suddenly I found I could wake up five, six, even seven times a night, just for the sheer joy of seeing the lunacy in Mummy's eyes by 4am. I loved Zombie Mama, who drifted through the day in a haze of fatigue, tears and 'The World's Worst Mother' guilt. I loved seeing Daddy shudder with resignation when he came home from work, having to deal with Zombie Mama (any grown up out there knows that there's nothing that promotes marital harmony like sleep deprivation!)
Zombie Mama was way too tired to figure a way out of this hell that I had created, so she got up to me every hour on the hour, fed me and faithfully rocked me back to sleep. That was until our holiday at Nanna's. A few days of Nanna-Love and Mummy was like a different person. She was like The Energiser Bunny with fresh batteries!
And here's the worst bit..... She started letting me cry myself to sleep! The hide of it! Letting a sensitive, delicate little soul like myself go to sleep all on my little lonesome! And if that wasn't enough to wound a baby's pride....I generally drop off to sleep within ten minutes! I have salvaged some degree of self respect, by still managing to wake up four times a night, but this is tempered by the fact that they keep putting me back to bed!
My gorgeous hunk of a Daddy got up to me last night, leaving Mummy to indulge in some much longed for sleep, which means that Mummy is practically bouncing off walls with energy this morning.

So, obviously this form of breaking the parent's spirits isn't working.....Need to research methods of Chinese Water Torture....