Way back in the beginning I posted about how much I loved co-sleeping. The power that came from having my little boy snuggled in close to his Mummy, the ultimate sedative. Well things have changed a bit since then.
We've all grown of course, T both upwards and outwards, me mainly outwards and in my need for a full night of uninterrupted sleep. So last night when I heard T wake as I listened to my Rainbow Relaxation (more on how the hypnobirthing is going coming very soon), I didn't mind too much when my husband brought him into bed with us, as I knew we'd all get more rest that way. How wrong could I be?!
There is no fun to be had in lying up against the bedside table, nose squished into the wood, as two boys, naked from the waist up, bellies rising and falling in synchronisation as they snore gently and (husband) not so gently, spreadeagle next to you, stealing all the pillows.
I got up and went to sleep in T's bed (I realise it's sounding a little Goldilocks now) where the matress was too thin to get comfy. I lay awake for almost an hour feeling very cross that we sprung for an, erm, sprung one and it's Not Very Comfy At All, before realising my pregnancy weight is probably equivalent to 10 toddlers, which might explain it. I was just drifting off when I remembered I'd left my mobile phone on charge, the handset under my pillow to deaden the sound of the morning alarm, stopping it travelling through the wall and waking T before I get my precious few minutes of morning to myself. Toddlers and wires don't mix of course. I had visions of T becoming tangled, hurting himself, and had to get up and remove it before I could settle.
My husband woke me at 4 am as he got up for work. His side of the bed vacated, I staggered into our bedroom again, grateful at last to be able to stretch out full length. T was still snoring. I fell into a much needed sleep, mobile (now fully charged) back under my pillow for the 7 am wake-up.
It never came of course. I came to when the light was still cold enough to indicate the hour was barely past six am. Something small pinged my face, and again, and again. I groaned and opened one eye. T had found my ipod on the bedside table, where I'd abandoned it at the end of the Rainbow Relaxation what felt like days ago. The pings were the earphones, being swung like a lassoo.
T looked inordinately pleased to have woken up with a ready made playmate next to him, just ripe for poking and prodding. He handed me the ipod.
"Mummy, mummy .... YELLOW SUBMARINE"!
My husband, and his mix tapes, have a lot to answer for.