After a full nights sleep, no interruptions, I’m woken at 7am by the dulcet tones of my toddler at his gate…
“Mum!! Mumma!! Muuuummmmaaaa!!” He shouts, whilst rattling the stair gate on his room like a caged rabid animal.
That’ll be wake up time for me then.
As I’m about to get out of bed, I notice something I haven’t seen in a loooonnnng time (or maybe ever…) – My husband is up before me and is getting dressed.
Confusion reigns in my head. I’m not sure if I’m actually seeing this or if I’m still half asleep. It turns out to be the former.
“I’m getting up anyway, I can’t sleep” he says to me.
Crikey. Erm, ok. Is this some sort of test? It’s not Mother’s Day already is it?! Am I supposed to say ok thanks lie back down or should I instead insist it’s ok and get up anyway.
Well, seen as this honestly hasn’t happened in approximately 6 years (no, I’m not joking), I tentatively lie back down and assume I’m ok to stay in bed.
“Come on Ben…” I hear my husband say to the toddler.
Doof, doof, doof, doof, doof – comes the reply. (That’s the pitter patter of Ben running away from his gate and hiding back in his bed. I think he too is confused by the fact daddy is at his gate and not mummy).
“Okay, fine,” says my husband and he goes off downstairs.
Two seconds later, the toddler is in my room.
“Mumma! Mumma…” he says and points downstairs.
“It’s ok Ben-Ben, Daddy is down there and he will get you some milk. Off you go…” I reassure him.
And with that, he trots off downstairs to find daddy.
10 minutes later, the toddler reappears next to my bed.
“Mumma! Mum mum! Mumma!” he says as he bashes me on the head.
“Yes, Ben…” I say.
“Mumma!” He says and he points downstairs.
“Okay, okay, give me a minute”.
I get myself dressed and find the bathroom tap running and everyone’s toothbrush in the sink along with the mouthwash, some soap and a train.
Well that explains what he’s been up to whilst Daddy was ‘looking after him’…
I get up and turn the tap off and go downstairs.
I find my husband is watching a car restoration programme on Discovery.
“Has Ben had some milk?” I ask.
“Erm, nope. No, he hasn’t…” He replies.
I’ll sort that out then.
“You didn’t stay in bed very long…” He says, surprised.
I don’t reply through fear of my desire to tip milk on his head, whilst I’m fetching the toddlers drink.
“I’m going out for a bike ride soon if that’s ok? But I need to have breakfast…” he then says.
(Saturday is normally bacon sandwich day in our house….)
“Do you want a bacon sandwich then?” I ask through gritted teeth and as I’m already preemptively holding he bacon in my hand and squeezing it so tightly it resembles a weapon….
“Oh, go on then, if you’re making one and I have time before my ride…” he replies.
(I bang and crash about as much as I can in protest as I’m making bacon sandwiches for everyone, whilst I’m sorting the toddler and emptying and loading the dishwasher…while my husband watches his very important tv and contemplates his belly button).
So, so much for the lie in. And normal service was resumed after 10 minutes.
Can’t wait for my next lie in….