Shit O’Clock

Awake at 5.30am. Got up for a menopausal wee and can’t get back to sleep. The kids will get up at 7.30. Before kids a night time wee was just a n occasional slightly irritating but brief hiatus in an otherwise blissful nine hour kip. If there were ever times when I couldn’t get back to sleep I can’t remember them – and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because I could just sleep in a bit later. Nowadays if I wake in the middle of the night the panic kicks in – ‘oh God – I’m going to be exhausted now… They’ll be up soon!’ And before I know it I’m tossing and turning, fretting about silly things – was I pompous yesterday on the train? should I try the 5:2 diet again? – and big things – how long have we got before the bailiffs arrive and will I be depressed if we move to North Chingford? Most patents of young kids moan about sleep deprivation but we never really suffered, despite having a toddler and triplets. As babies yes we fed them at night but after four months our routine paid off and they were sleeping through. Since then I can count on my two hands the number of times I’ve been disturbed by one of them at night. Sure, there was that time on tour in Baden Baden when they all had the Norovirus in a shared bed and spent the whole night vomiting all over each other then rollng in it, but our beloved Au Pair Katharina dealt with that while I slept down the hotel corridor blissfully unaware.
We’ve always had zero tolerance of kids in our bed. Co-sleeping. I don’t want some pissy sweaty child in bed with me thanks. My bed, my sanctuary. So it seems doubly unfair that I should suffer from bouts of intense insomnia. I hate waking up early. I feel physically sick all day, even more short-tempered than usual, and the kids’ natural, shall we say ebullience is more wearing than ever. I mean for fuck’s sake who needs to do the can-can at 7.30 in the morning?
At least things have settled in the house since last week’s Shutupgate. Regular readers will remember both boys were in the dog house for rudeness, and we confiscated all their gadgets for a week. After a day or two of moaning they have accepted it, and have already actually requested that they EARN time on computers rather than have united access. What fantastic parenting. We rule. There was one worrying moment during the punishment negotiation though. The eldest boy grumbled that it was unfair as I had also been rude to them so where was MY punishment?
‘Don’t you think it’s punishment enough that I have to desk with you two every day?’ I asked.
‘Well, maybe we can’t do anything to you now…’ he replied, coolly holding my gaze ‘But when you’re older….’
‘Hang on’ I said, trying to make light of the involuntary shiver down my back ‘Are you threatening to take revenge on me when I’m old and can’t fight back?’
He raised a You’ll-Just-have-to-wait-and-see eyebrow and walked off, his round bottom almost splitting his too-small school trousers.

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