Make It Stop!
“I love you Liz, I always have”
“I love you too, George” I whispered, leaning into his chest, lips puckered, eyes closed.
“MUMMY! It’s 20 o’clock! We’ve got to go NOW!”
“Er” I whimpered, disorientated. I cranked an eye open. Chickie was so close, it was like viewing him through a magnifying glass. I jolted back into the pillow.
“Mummy’s dreaming – go and play in your room for a little bit” I mumbled, anxious to return to George Clooney’s lips.
“You smell yucky mummy. Can you play with me?”
“Sweetheart, it’s too early for mummy, just go and play in your room for a few hours”
Chickie began singing. “Silent night, ho-ey night, round yon mergin mother and child, sleeping, sleepy, sleep, never sleep”
Unable to open both eyes at the same time, I viewed Chickie through a small crack in my right eye. He looked so awake. My eyeball crept over to the clock. 5:59am. God, it was still night.
I groaned and slid under the duvet. Chickie climbed on top and began bouncing up and down. I turned over and toppled him onto his father, before quickly rolling away.
It seemed God had giveth and God had taken away. Finally, after a year of night waking, Chickie was sleeping through. And our punishment was that he now woke up at 5.59am every morning.
Later that day, I patted myself on the back for showing such enterprise. ‘That should do it’ I thought as I practiced locking the new gate on Chickie’s bedroom door. All his toys were in there so I could see no reason why he shouldn’t happily while away those pesky twilight hours playing with Buzz Lightyear instead of mummy.
05:59am the next morning. “MMMUUUUUMMMMMMYYYY! LET ME OUUUUTTTTTTT NOW!!!”
I grunted in shock. “What? Erm?” I floundered in confusion, lost between sleeping and waking.
“OUT NOW!” Chickie reiterated loudly.
“Just play.. wiv.toys....” I mouthed into the darkness.
“IT’S NOT FAIR”
I opted to ignore him, confident the futility of his efforts would soon find him lost in a world of imaginative play.
A strange scratching started. Then a pinging noise.
“Stop it” I shouted. It got louder.
I scrambled out of bed just as a car flew over his gate and down the stairs.
“Sorry mummy” he said, grinning at me from behind the bars. “Can I come in your room now?” he smiled smugly.
As he burrowed down the middle of the bed, he placed two ice cold feet on my bum, I yelped. Then followed a sharp blow to the back. “NEE NAW NEE NAW”. Chickie off roaded his ambulance down my spine.
“Give daddy cuddles” I suggested, trying to roll Chickie over to face Accountant.
Accountant rolled him back, Chick’s nose now pressed up to mine.
“It’s 20 o’clock, Mummy. Are you getting up?”
“Yes” I groaned, accepting yon merging of mother and child. Sleepy, sleep, never sleep.
“I love you too, George” I whispered, leaning into his chest, lips puckered, eyes closed.
“MUMMY! It’s 20 o’clock! We’ve got to go NOW!”“Er” I whimpered, disorientated. I cranked an eye open. Chickie was so close, it was like viewing him through a magnifying glass. I jolted back into the pillow.
“Mummy’s dreaming – go and play in your room for a little bit” I mumbled, anxious to return to George Clooney’s lips.
“You smell yucky mummy. Can you play with me?”
“Sweetheart, it’s too early for mummy, just go and play in your room for a few hours”
Chickie began singing. “Silent night, ho-ey night, round yon mergin mother and child, sleeping, sleepy, sleep, never sleep”
Unable to open both eyes at the same time, I viewed Chickie through a small crack in my right eye. He looked so awake. My eyeball crept over to the clock. 5:59am. God, it was still night.
I groaned and slid under the duvet. Chickie climbed on top and began bouncing up and down. I turned over and toppled him onto his father, before quickly rolling away.
It seemed God had giveth and God had taken away. Finally, after a year of night waking, Chickie was sleeping through. And our punishment was that he now woke up at 5.59am every morning.
Later that day, I patted myself on the back for showing such enterprise. ‘That should do it’ I thought as I practiced locking the new gate on Chickie’s bedroom door. All his toys were in there so I could see no reason why he shouldn’t happily while away those pesky twilight hours playing with Buzz Lightyear instead of mummy.
05:59am the next morning. “MMMUUUUUMMMMMMYYYY! LET ME OUUUUTTTTTTT NOW!!!”
I grunted in shock. “What? Erm?” I floundered in confusion, lost between sleeping and waking.
“OUT NOW!” Chickie reiterated loudly.
“Just play.. wiv.toys....” I mouthed into the darkness.
“IT’S NOT FAIR”
I opted to ignore him, confident the futility of his efforts would soon find him lost in a world of imaginative play.
A strange scratching started. Then a pinging noise.
“Stop it” I shouted. It got louder.
I scrambled out of bed just as a car flew over his gate and down the stairs.
“Sorry mummy” he said, grinning at me from behind the bars. “Can I come in your room now?” he smiled smugly.
As he burrowed down the middle of the bed, he placed two ice cold feet on my bum, I yelped. Then followed a sharp blow to the back. “NEE NAW NEE NAW”. Chickie off roaded his ambulance down my spine.
“Give daddy cuddles” I suggested, trying to roll Chickie over to face Accountant.
Accountant rolled him back, Chick’s nose now pressed up to mine.
“It’s 20 o’clock, Mummy. Are you getting up?”
“Yes” I groaned, accepting yon merging of mother and child. Sleepy, sleep, never sleep.
2 comments:
ha ha! I love it! That was ME this very morning, when I had one boy tucked in with me, pretending to accidentally bump me to wake me and another calling from his crib that he had to go poop! I SO feel the cold feet and yet I just delight in seeing those sweet faces in the morning - assuming they've let me get enough sleep :) Thanks for sharing!
Sincerely, Katie
Hi Katie. Thanks for your comment - nice to know someone other than my mum reads my blog from time to time!
He was bouncing round our room at 6.30am this morning, (practically a lie in these days!)
In ten years time we can have our revenge when they want to sleep in until lunchtime!
Liz
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