So. It’s 00:48am and Spawn #1 has just stirred and called out for attention.
Dilemma: Is he dreaming and crying out in his sleep or is he waking and genuinely in need of attention?
I lie here listening to him for a few seconds to see if the crying out gets any louder. Bugger! It does.
Dilemma 2: The children’s rooms are next to each other, their doors separated only by the geometric entity that is a right-angle.
It has been so hot in our hometown this week that the Grobag Eggs in their rooms have been constantly RED and unhappy (for anyone unfamiliar with a Grobag Egg, these are small plug-in room thermometers that change colour with the temperature: BLUE = Too cold. YELLOW = Just right. ORANGE = Slightly too warm. RED = Sauna from Hell).
So the doors to the children’s bedrooms have been open all week to try and help cool them down. It hasn’t worked. And whenever One Child makes a noise in their sleep, Other Child wakes and has a moan.
With Spawn #1 making screechy noises, I figure it won’t be long until #2 is dragged screaming from the realm of sleep. With this in mind, I climb out of bed and head to #1’s room to head this off at the pass.
I exit the bedroom I share with Dearest Wife and turn towards the Little Cherubs’ rooms. I start to pace towards #1’s door when I am cruelly tackled by a laundry basket. Thankfully my little toe takes the brunt of the impact and I swear silently into darkness of the house.
#1 is starting to get more upset so I enter his room, expecting to find him stuck in the cot with his arms and legs pinned between the mattress and the frame, or find he’s stuck a book up his nostril. But no. He’s just upset because he rolled over onto The Highway Rat and cannot get back to sleep.
I soothe #1 until he is once again unconscious and tiptoe back to my bed, avoiding any more ninja laundry baskets. On the way back to bed, I realised something.
in all of the books that we read while planning for children, nothing anywhere had prepared me for all the bits that parents actually go through: The Stress, The Emotional Turmoil, The Impacted Social Life, The Erratic Sex Life, and the almost constant edge-of-your-seat bedtime routines.
People with kids tell you how great being a parent is, and often they will tell you it’s tough. They may even regale you with a story or example of something that isn’t quite going to plan – but all these experiences are unique to each situation. Every parent is unique, as is every child. Some techniques will work, while others that people swear by (having seen them used to immediate effect on Supernanny) will fail spectacularly. But if you persevere, you can and will overcome almost anything.
Its now 01:33am, and I am bringing this, my first blog entry, to a close. I intend this to be the first in a series of posts intended to provide short snippets of my daily war with my children, and on occasion a nostalgic glance back to days gone by, when the children actually slept at night and England was a far more temperate, Grobag Egg friendly place to live.
- Situational Manipulation, or Suffer The Little Children (alexryde.wordpress.com)