You are inches from my face mumbling something.
“What?” I say. You mumble something about tush.
“Mummy. Sore tush.” Daddy says.
I rub my eyes. Check the time. 4.44am.
“Ok. Let’s go”.
“No light on”.
“What”?
“No light”.
“I can’t clean you in the dark Lara”.
“Step”.
“What”?
“She wants her step”. Daddy says.
“Want my Daddy”. Really?
We expected lots of poo. There was nothing. You had woken us both up for nothing. My throat was seriously sore, it was 4.44am and you were demanding we wipe your tush. I stood in the hallway whilst your Dad pandered to your rediculous demand…a smile spreads across your face. My tiredness turns to frustration and angry. This was a power play. I’m seriously pissed with you now.
As I write this it’s 5.20am, and your Daddy is trying to get you back to sleep…both your Dad and I knowing you won’t…knowing the next 2 hours will be you getting up every 15 minutes until your light goes green.
We have been doing this 4am power play for months now. Learning to survive on 5 – 6 hours sleep.
The sooner you grow out of this madness the better.