Sleeping through it


I had a fairly long run this morning, up and down the biggest hills I could find, and then as it was Chinese New Year today, there was nowhere open for coffee. We had all gone to bed quite early last night, only for the midnight fireworks to wake up La Serpiente, so I should have been well rested, instead of battling against my id to get out of bed.

The morning, then, was an attempt to persuade the children to go to bed so I could take a nap, and when they did eventually sleep and I got another hour, it was blissful but too short. This afternoon we had planned to see a friend DJ at a local bar, but the bar was a chain and the local bar wasn’t the right one; so home again, where minor but consistent misbehaviour from La Serpiente led to her having one of her Dora The Explorer books confiscated. 

This produced peals of tears and the enduring refrain “you made me sad”. No, you made yourself sad by expectorating and acting as if your parents wouldn’t take any steps against this. But it’s hard to make a three year old understand that the pursuit of happiness might be a right, but happiness itself cannot be guaranteed. Also, we’d had to read this damnable book so many times I assumed my wife had engineered the situation with the express desire to take Dora’s Springtime Fiesta out of rotation. 

I had to put Destroyer to bed, and she burbled and lay down waggling her legs in the air, but wouldn’t sleep. I awoke on her floor about 9, and she was still awake. I turned on her sheep again and tried to stay conscious, and after an hour of lying next to a sleeping parent, I guess she got the hint and went to sleep. At which point a shouting competition started on the floor above us, perfectly timed to wake up La Serpiente. 

This could be a long night…


One response to “Sleeping through it”

  1. I got woke up three times last night. Stanley refused to stop trying to escape his cot, so had to put him the bed with us. This alleviated his whingeing somehwat, but meant I only had several inches of bed to cling to. This is the new pecking order I’m slowly growing accustomed to – baby, mummy, then male breadwinner.

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