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Tales of Parental woe by Historyrepeats
Format: Short story collection
Chapter 1: In which Ron struggles with sleep
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In which Ron misses sleep.
Surely they have to sleep sometimes right?
It certainly wasn’t what Ron was expecting, that’s for sure. The classes that Hermione had made him take had left him with the impression that if the baby wouldn’t sleep, it would most certainly be crying. But the baby wasn’t crying, and she most certainly wasn’t sleeping.
She wasn’t crying, she wasn’t sleeping. He had checked her diaper; Hermione had fed her for hours.
The baby was just awake.
How could she be just awake?
Why in the name of merlin’s saggy y-fronts was this baby awake? It was four am, didn’t this small child know this?
Hermione had informed Ron that Rose had been feeding since before midnight and that her nipples felt like they were going to fall off. She couldn’t get another drop of milk into ‘that child and I am going to bed so help me god’.
Hermione had woken him up saying that with that scary don’t-even-think-of-touching-me face on that seemed to have developed when she gave birth to Rose.
When Hermione talked like that Ron was inclined to take her seriously.
Mainly, because if he didn’t he was likely to get hexed, he didn’t want a repeat of the bird fiasco from sixth year. So Hermione had gone to bed where she was now snoring rather ungracefully, in the deep sleep of a women who hasn’t had an unbroken night’s sleep in six or more months. Ron had lost count of the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep, and for Hermione it was worse, that last trimester of pregnancy she’d been up and down all night.
So he had burped Rose, twice in fact, He had changed her diaper again even though it had been clean, just in case. Rose seemed perfectly content she was smiling at him in an unconcerned manner, as if she had no idea that her father was contemplating why he ever had a child in the first place. He looked down at her in desperation, thinking about whether he should brave the lion’s den and asked Hermione to try feeding her to sleep one more time. Deciding he rather liked his head still attached to him, and that waking Hermione at this point in time was akin to facing Voldemort armed with a codfish, he decided to pace the floor with Rose instead.
Besides feeding Rose to sleep had only worked for the first five months anyway. Not to mention Hermione had been up till four am feeding her long after Ron had fallen asleep on the sofa listening to Canons game. Hermione had been kind enough to inform that they had lost again when she woke him to hand him Rose.
Oh well, he was sure this would be their year for sure. Canons for the cup.
Rose squirmed in his arms wanting down, but Ron simply adjusted his daughter once more and continued to pace his living room.
Why had they had a baby again?
All Rose seemed to do was eat and fill her diaper.
Clearly James with all his chubby cuteness had been false advertising. Victorine too for that matter.
False Advertising the lot of them.
For that matter, why hadn’t Bill and Fleur, or Harry and Ginny warned him about the no-sleep-ever-again thing about babies.
Surely his own family could be relied on to warn him about the awful sleepless reality. Then the thought occurred to him.
Why had his parents done this seven times?
had he somehow missed the fact that they were mythical beings who clearly didn’t need to sleep ever?
They had to mythical beings right?! How else did they make it through all the sleepless nights that’s seven children would have brought?
And twins, he didn’t even want to consider the twins.
Maybe he should sleep Rose to sleep, that would do the trick right? But just as quickly as it occurred to him, he dismissed the idea. He was a hundred percent sure Hermione would kill him. She’d be brutal too, as brutal as she could possibly be and in her sleep deprived state he didn’t even want to think about the sadistic means she could take.
Sun had begun to creep into the living room as he had been pacing, absentmindedly humming an old quidditch chant as he did so. After an hour of this he had run out of chants and had moved on the Celestina Warbeck songs his Mother had loved when he noticed that he daughter was finally asleep.
Thank merlin for that.
Rose was still smiling ever so sweetly in a way that made his heart swell, and he instantly forgave her for not sleeping earlier.
He settled her into her in the bedroom, and snuggled in with his wife, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his,
“thank you for Rose,” he murmured knowing she was asleep but feeling like he had to express it anyway. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep truly happy with his lot in life.
But it wasn’t to last of course. In a fit of parental irony his alarm promptly went off after five minutes of blissful sleep and woke the baby.