. . . is the quote I am sure that springs to most parents mind when their own little angel wakes them at ten to three in the morning screaming bloody murder and jumping furiously whilst clutching the end of the cotbed. Can someone please give me back my lovely daughter that sleeps through the night and have back the hysterical mess that’s had me awake since three? I don’t really understand why she’s started doing this. I stagger into the nursery, hair askew and bleary eyed, dutifully pick her up and change her nappy telling my self mentally over and over “NO cuddles. That’s what she wants. Can’t get into that habit. She needs to learn. Night time is for sleeping not cuddling” Freshly changed and still screaming I pick her up to transfer her back to bed withOUT cuddling, when she pushes her head under my chin, wraps her warm little hand around my neck, thumb in and aaahhh . . . quiet. Ok, one five minute cuddle. That is IT then straight back into bed. After all it’ll probably help get her off again. Twenty minutes later when she finally sleeps in my arms I lay her gently back down. The eyes open. Bugger. I freeze anxiously, she’ll go back off again as long as she knows I’m here. She sucks her thumb and slowly drifts off again. I take a tentative side step, crab-like towards the door. No movement. So far so good. Another side step and “ping” she suddenly lifts her head and fixes her eyes on me. Again – freeze. It seems like an eternity as we eyeball each other untill eventually, satisfied that I am actually there with her, her eyes close and the side stepping commences. I briefly wonder at the ridiculousness of inadvertantly playing Grandma’s Footsteps with a 1-year-old in the middle of the night and manage to creep from the room and back into bed over an hour after she woke up. The lump next to me stirs briefly and a sleepy voice emerges from within the duvet somewhere “do you need a hand?” I’m not answering that.
Twenty minutes later and the screams begin again. It’s a stale mate in the marital bed. We’re both awake. We both know each other is awake. We’re just hoping that the other one will get up first. It’s Stu. Yey! He goes in, lies her straight back down, gets back into bed and just as I’m cursing him because she’s still crying and I’m thinking I’ll have to deal with it again – silence. Unbelievable! And so unfair. Oh well . . . I guess it just means that Dad’s obviously better for night duties. Mwa ha ha ha ha (evil laugh)
For those who read yesterday’s entry – half a tub of Twiglets and a chocolate orange down. . . COME ON!