Today I've found myself fantasising the following...the weekend starts, you have no plans in particular, tonight, Friday night, you might get home, get snuggled and order a take-away, open some wine and chill with a movie. Or maybe you'll go out, on a whim - with no planning and baby-sitting booking, "just nipping out for some dinner and drinks" you'd say and off you go.
Then you'll go to sleep, and you don't set an alarm and you haven't birthed any mini-alarms so you sleep and you sleep and you sleep. Until your body is well rested and you get up. It might be 10am, or 11am, what difference does it make. It's a lie in yes, and much appreciated but no big deal, you often catch up on sleep on the weekend. Then grab some breakfast, you'll cook eggs and eat them hot, accompanied by tea, drunk above tepid.
Then you'd get dressed or not, whatever.
Then you'll go out or not, whatever.
Then you might cook dinner or not, whatever.
Then you'll go to sleep for another full 8 hour stretch and wake up for another day full of choice and independence...
No one feeding from you.
No nappies to change.
No laundry to put on, put out and put away.
No time-outs to issue.
No bottles to sterilise.
No snotty noses to wipe.
I'm fed up, if you hadn't guessed. I'm feeling totally fed up with the relentlessness of parenting the minis - my 4 month old has sleep regression and my usually golden nearly-2-year-old is giving the terrible twos a taster. Errgh.
I am sharing this bizarre post in the hope that I can read this in a years' time and smile to myself smugly as I now have 2 sleeping-through-the-night children who display exemplary behaviour and manners or...more likely I will sigh and think, oh boy...if only you knew what lay ahead.
Stay Strong *fist pump*
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