Isn’t it typical?

Isn’t it just bloody typical, the second you get a chance to sleep in your body doesn’t want to.

For as long as I can remember I’ve never been one for sleeping in too late. All my siblings seem to be able to, but I never get past nine if I am lucky. Not matter how late I go to bed. I always put it down to my migraines, at least in my teenage years. Having spent so many hours sleeping to try and get rid of the pain I guess I figured a sleep in was wasting time.

Then along come the kids, two bundles of joy wrapped in clouds of chaos. Suddenly surviving on a few hours of sleep isn’t a trick I can pull off any more. I need to get somewhere near seven at least. As the weeks go on and the combination of early starts and illness start to take their toil I think to myself ‘Man, I’d love a lie-in.’.

Of course the world always has different ideas. Right when you think you can stay in bed something happens. One of the little ones is sick or they are just up and full of energy and demand parental supervision.

Such is the way of things.

Except last night my mum offered to take both the kids overnight. Let me tell you herself and I didn’t have to be asked twice. The two of them were bundled away to Nanny and Granda’s quicker than they could shit a nappy.

We had big plans. Such plans. Plans of having a meal out, just the two of us, a few drinks, then home to watch a movie without the constant need to pause it and run up to see which of them was crying. Then a long sleep-in, the sort you only read about or see in movies.

It was the parenting version of EPIC!

Except bang on six thirty, of a Saturday morning, I woke up. Not just woke up, but fully woke up. I’m one of those mad whores that once they fully wake there is no going back to sleep. Lying in the bed will just result in the brain kicking into gear and plotting out things that need to be done. I often envy those who can wake up, go to the loo, check their phone, then climb back into bed and go back to sleep.

No kids in the house, no immediate responsibilities to take care of, and all the time in the world to catch up on sleep.

And I woke up and half bloody six.

I bet you dollars to doughnuts that when we bring back our happy balls of energy tonight and they start screaming at six thirty tomorrow morning I won’t have the same refreshed feeling I did this morning.

Isn’t it just typical?



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