Night Time Terrors!

Night Time Terrors!

As I write I’m sitting in the gloom of the morning in the sitting room alone after an eventful night.

My partner and I shuffled off to bed early after head bobbing on the sofa for a while. Within a couple and mid the deepest sleep cycle in came the five year old, snuggling his hot little body next to mine, wriggling and writhing and obviously desperate for a wee! Sleepily and gluey eyed I walked him to the bathroom, him moaning and eyes shut. He managed to go with only minimal seat splashing then back to bed for us both.

Then at 5a.m. the unmistakably sharp chirrup of the smoke alarm running out of battery.........

I woke my partner who amazingly seemed to be sleeping through it.  Last time this happened he used a broom to knock off the smoke alarm in rather a temper, ripping it from the ceiling and as the smoke alarm system is wired in resulting in more noise foiled eventually by a trip to cellar and fuse removal then some tricky repair work the next week through ‘Danger nuclear material contained ’ warnings on the plastic casing he had smashed at!

Amazingly he was in a better mood than anticipated and rather purposefully got on with it with only a small amount of huffing and puffing as he dragged the step ladders from the cellar and up to our room. Maybe he’d learnt a lesson from last time and with the big light on and my head under the duvet he replaced the ‘damn’ battery!

5.40a.m. and we’d managed to get back to sleep despite my partners initial fear he would be unable to sleep again as he was so wide awake.

We were sharply woken by an angry little boy cry and my partner went to get the two year old before he woke the street and more importantly the five year old! He continued to scream and would not be comforted, writhing around on the bed and floor, kicking arms and legs with the occasional head butt thrown in for good luck.

‘Calpol, calpol!!!’ I screeched as my partner filled the syringe and held the flaying toddler down. Still screams.

‘Bonnnnnjelllllaaaaa!’

Bonjella applied and all calmed a little, well no more screaming anyway.

My partner de-camped to the spare room and I tried to get the two year old to snuggle, but the little biffer only threw himself around the bed angrily crashing all the hard parts of his body against all the hard parts of my body, climbing over me, feet in my face, pulling off my covers and noisily, pulling off my covers and noisily snuffling, dribbling and blocked nose breathing.....

My mind began to fill up and I made shopping lists, half term plans and worried about paying the car insurance and changing that bank account.

Finally, I heard the gentle snoring of the little one, and got a final punch in the face. I checked the clock, 6.flippin’ 59 and absolutely no way this full head was going to get back to sleep.

Earlier in the week a pupil in my class had said, ‘Rough night Miss?!’ when I’d forgotten towear my touché éclat....

‘Not really’ I said, ‘Just normal!’