(First published on The Contented Calf website on Wednesday 4th January 2012. BF is approaching 2.5 years old and we're just getting back to our normal routine after the Christmas break...)
“…. You’re all alone, and so peaceful until….”
Although yesterday (Tuesday) was the first official day back at work/nursery/normality etc after Christmas and New Year, it was this morning that made me smile a wry smile.
Hubby normally does the Monday morning nursery run, which means that we both get up just before 7:00am – he to jump in the shower and get ready, me to get BF up and ready.
Then (after a goodbye kiss and cuddle) I wave them off around 7:40, jump in the shower myself and get ready to try and start work at 8ish. As BF needs to wake and get up at the same time as us, it’s actually quite good that there’s a bit of hustle and bustle noise and light to gently wake her before I go in.
(Yesterday counted as 'Monday' this week ;-))
For the rest of the week though, Hubby and I wake up at 6:00am, so that he can leave at 6:30 and squeeze in some study before starting work. (He’s an academic at heart and always studying for something or other.)
This hour earlier wake-up time involves a whole different approach to our morning routine...
...namely that we try to do a lot of it in silence in the dark!!
For those of you who are parents, you will all understand that 6:00am is far too close to 7:00am to risk waking a toddler, who potentially could be sleeping peacefully for a whole hour more, a whole 60 minutes more!
Starting the day peacefully, organised and in control is so much more preferable than not having time for a shower, having a sobbing, tired toddler cling to you, refusing to get dressed, and still somehow be late out the door, despite everyone being up one hour earlier.
So this morning saw me requesting that Hubby go upstairs to have his shower in the loft guest room ensuite and ‘shut all the doors’ as additional sound-proofing. I snuck to the loo in the dark.
Then we both tip-toed downstairs into the safety of the kitchen to have some breakfast, very gently closing the door behind us before turning the kettle on.
At 6:30 we tentatively opened the door again so that Hubby could put on coat, shoes and rucksack.
(I have to admit I did have a little cringe when he not only seemed to be rustling his coat incredibly loudly while putting it on, but had the audacity to un-zip his bag to put something else in! Everything seemed to be at 100 decibels!)
But mission seemed to be accomplished, and I silently closed the front door behind him, returned to the safety of the kitchen to finish off breakie before creeping back upstairs for a shower.
As it was approaching 6:45, I ‘allowed’ myself to shower in the main bathroom.
(Daring, I know!!)
I even managed to get dressed without hearing BF murmur, shout out or cry. And at 7:00am I went in to her room, where she sat up straight away, so maybe she had woken up slightly by the shower, but she was still a ‘bed-headed’, sleepy and happy (enough) toddler.
In the words of Postman Pat SDS “mission accomplished”!
But what made me smile my wry smile was that it was this morning’s sneaking and creeping routine that really made me feel like we were back to ‘normal’.
I know there’ll be people who think we’re being too accommodating to her and that our stealth-like morning manoeuvres are simply ridiculous.
I know that – hence the smile.
But right from the start BF has never been the deepest of sleepers. While other babies seemed able to sleep in their Moses baskets in the middle of a hullabaloo of visitors and well-wishers, within three weeks, we’d realised that she settled and slept much better in a quiet, dark(ish) room next door – us sneaking in every 10 minutes to check she was still breathing, as newbie parents must do.
And when she was still in full afternoon sleep mode (and on the odd occasions she relents and still has one now), it was a case of heading back downstairs, with doors closed before turning on the TV or radio.
Last month I got up for a night-time wee and accidentally stood on a Thomas the Tank Engine music book that had been left there (she likes to ‘read’ while she’s on the loo!) and out blared the music to
“They’re two, they’re four, they’re six, they’re eight, shunting truck and hauling freight…. Thomas and his friends”
Two whole verses worth!
I whisked the offending ‘ghetto-blaster’ book into the bathroom and tried to smother the sound with a towel(!) until it finished. I listened apprehensively, but not a whisper – phew!
And so on we plod, or should I say on we tiptoe, until her teen years I guess, when I’m sure nothing will get her out of bed!
I on the other-hand, as the mother of a high-octane toddler, could probably fall asleep right now…. Maybe I could sneak in a little nap this afternoon…???
Have a good one guys!
As ever, with love from our family to yours,