It was the sound of suckling that awoke me. That incessant "slurp, slurp, slurp" which all parents know as infant speak for "I'm hungry. Feed me now and nobody gets hurt. Wait 2 seconds and I will scream so loud that birds will fly from the trees and worse, the snot queen will wake up thinking it's time to start the day."
It was 5:30 in the morning. On a Saturday. Forgive me for wanting to sleep oh great infant overlord.
Twenty five minutes of enthusiastic guzzling later, I made the mistake of shifting my position causing her to momentarily lose her latch. This resulted in the aforementioned almighty roar which, while I am uncertain of it's effects on local birdlife, had the very unfortunate result of a very cheerful, instantly alert sounding "Bahbee?" from the other side of the room.
The Snot Queen was awake.
For the next three hours, the girls played a horrible, vicious game of "sleep tag" whereby one of them slept while the other did their best to keep mammy awake.
At eight thirty, they called time on their shenanigans and bright eyed and bushy tailed, declared the day open for business.
I on the other hand, was a snarling, rather feral looking creature who wanted nothing nothing more then to wring the necks of each of my offspring as well as that of their well rested father, who took one look at the blood lust in my eyes and suggested - rather wisely - that I stay in bed just a little bit longer and he'd take the girls downstairs.
Being the calm, reasonable soul I am, I immediately rejected his offer, bit off his head and spat it disdainfully on the ground before seeing sense and diving back under the duvet and falling promptly into a coma.
At eleven o'clock (and in the middle of a dream involving David Letterman, my family and a pair of tights that had, amongst other things, a man's face complete with protruding nose printed on them ) I was awoken by my partner who then served me breakfast in bed complete with a wine glass of orange juice before returning downstairs to the tiny terrors.
What can I say?
I'm a lucky woman.
I remember those days. I don't think you can ever forget--so true about the sleep-wake tag! What a wonderful day when they understood, "You can't get up until the sun does." What a wonderful husband, though!
ReplyDeleteYour husband is a saint!!
ReplyDeleteDo you intend to hire him out for hangover mornings?
Why is it that they can exist on very little sleep and bounce out of bed after being up all night - as if they had a year's sleep?
Are we just getting old?
nice two see the men folk getting good press for a change. Thanks maria for reminding us there WAS a reason behind all this family stuff in the first place and it wasn't invented soley to wreck our heads
ReplyDeleteWhat a love!!! And he even put the OJ in a wine glass. Nice touch. :)
ReplyDeleteTotal sympathy sent your way...I've got 4 kids with the little ones being 2 and 8 weeks...my life currently revolves around poop, pewk, milk, screaming and coffee.
ReplyDelete