I love my kids and would throw myself into the path of danger to protect them. Already, you know there’s a caveat coming up imminently. And here it is. I’m truly sick of them getting in our bed!
Saying ‘them’ may seem somewhat uncharitable towards the older two as they’re a lot less to blame than youngest these days. But tough.
The effect has been cumulative and they’ve both played their parts. The now-six-year-old, for example, didn’t sleep through until he was four. Sigh.
Youngest still doesn’t sleep through the night so, with the previous nocturnal visits from her brothers added into the equation, we’ve had eight solid years of sleep deprivation.
Every night without fail, she wakes up. She doesn’t make a fuss. She just grabs a couple of favourite toys, helps herself to a cup of water and casually saunters into our room.
In she gets – always clambering over one of us rather than getting in at the end – and proceeds to push us both to the edges of our bed. And, indeed, our sanity.
She won’t get back in her own bed and there’s no point trying to convince her. She’s way too fierce!
We’re woken at regular intervals thereafter. Usually in the form of a flailing fist to the nose or a kick in the nether regions.
She can also be relied upon to wake us with the occasional headbutt. When she isn’t being violent while asleep, she puts her arms underneath our pillows.
This either wakes us up immediately or leaves us with neck pain the next morning.
In addition, she farts loudly and indiscriminately and regularly coughs in our faces. Oh, and she snores too. Bless.
We thought that half term might bring a respite of sorts. With no school run for a week, our alarms are off in the hope of the odd lie-in.
No. She still wakes up at the same time – although sometimes a little earlier – and rattles off an itemised list of what she wants for breakfast.
And, as her brothers don’t have to be anywhere, they get in with us too. They’re all flying limbs and flatulence as well.
As if all this isn’t enough, the bloody cat gets on the bed too and starts attacking my feet. The entire family and irritating furry lodger on one small rectangle.
Consequently, we stagger out of bed every morning aching, groaning and more visibly tired than the previous day.
Sometimes I read The Walking Dead comics before bed – a few hours later, I make quite a convincing zombie.
So what am I going to do about it? The same thing I always do. Complain about it on here and just wait.