Mid-life crisis?

I confided in a lovely friend last week that I am feeling a bit low.

I think anyone getting as little and as broken sleep as I am would feel pretty rubbish. And things aren't good at work. I've been made redundant and offered another job but it isn't what I was expecting and I feel hurt and disappointed although I know the decisions are down to cost-cutting and not personal.

But it's neither of those things that are getting me down really. I think it's the view I now have of the open field ahead that the rest of my life represents. I've done childhood and I've done the pre-children years. I've done being pregnant and giving birth and now the next phase is on the horizon. There is no kidding myself any more that I'm not a proper adult (catch me off the cuff tho' and ask me what year it is and I'll tell you '1988') and I need to work out where I'm going in life.

Exciting, yes - I have some ideas for new career paths, but I realise now more than ever that the responsibility for our financial stability weighs upon my shoulders. I'm the one who's going to have to significantly increase our household income if we are ever going to have enough cash to enjoy ourselves with, move house etc. A challenge but a weight too. Especially as I don't intend to return to work full time, and don't want my kids going to every pre and after school club that exists once they enter full time education.

I suppose I also feel suddenly very aware that I'm approaching the big 40, and that I've had the first half of my life and am definitely into the second. I find it a bit scary and I feel unsettled. Could I be approaching a mid-life crisis?

Worry not! I'm sure this is a temporary phase. I will work on a cunning plan. I will turn my thinking around over the next few days and start seeing the glass as half-full. I have lots of ideas - if only I could find the time to make some of them happen.

Perhaps OH and I need to save up for and plan a massive joint 40th birthday treat so that we've got something fantastic to look forward to. (I must jot that down, nice idea...) Do something we've always wanted to do. Hum. Spend the night in a yurt? Have a holiday in one of those sheds on stilts above water? See the sun rise in Nepal? I've always wanted to swim with dolphins, he's always wanted to go to Florida, perhaps we could combine dreams. It would be nice to come up with something that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Or anything at all.

Heigh ho, nice food for thought. Meanwhile, talking of birthdays, Babe's third birthday is on the horizon. Party dilemnas stressing me. I am a total party pooper. Worry about stuff. Like the horrendous materialism surrounding the concept of party bags yet my son's guests' likely expectation that we will have them. And I would like to have a naming ceremony for both boys but unless we get our skates on and organise that it won't ever happen.

Blah! There's no way I'm going to be able to work on any of this or my life plan until New Babe has stopped waking every blinking hour or so during the night seeking out my boob. I have inadvertently taught him a gamut of terrible habits: sleeping on his front, so he cannot tolerate pushchairs or car seats, and feeding him too often and feeding him to sleep which means I can't leave him for longer than a feed cycle, which isn't long. He won't take a bottle or a dummy.

I don't know how this happened, but we have agreed that from Monday it's boot camp for him, poor little blighter. I am prepared for two weeks of hell while we teach him to get to sleep on his back, on his own, in his cot, at regular intervals. I am also moving into the spare room with OH so that New Babe can have a room of his own where he can't smell me. I think this may help him wake a little less. Let's hope so, I'm desperate. Watch this space...