5.23am. I hear a little voice on the baby monitor ‘Mama?…Dada?’. Fuck. My brain reacts but my body sinks further into the matress. Every part of me aches and my eyes feel like they are on fire. ‘MAMAMAMAMA…DADADA’ I lie still. If I don’t move he will go back to sleep. He will never know he woke me.
5.30am. The shouting begins. I start to feel guilty. My mind is telling me to get up but my arms pull the duvet over my head.
5.33am. I look at the monitor and he’s dragged himself up to the bars in his sleeping bag. Obviously he’s still managed to hold onto blue bunny. I can see him dangling by his soggy ear.
5.35am. The stand off has lasted 12 minutes but it feels like I have been awake for hours. Spring has set in and the room is already starting to fill with light. Totally unfair. At this point his little loud voice is echoing around the house.
5.36am. I make my move. I feel like I am about 86 not 26. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I look like fucking Edward Scissor Hands, my curly hair is totally out of control. I drag myself accross the room and out onto the landing. I rest my head against his door and take a deep breath. 1, 2, 3, go.
5.37am. ‘Oh hello! Hiiiii my beautiful little baby! How are you. How did you sleep? Ohhhh come to mummy what’s wrong? Are you hungry? Ok let’s go.’ Top acting skills from me right there. He smiles at me and all is forgiven. My pain takes a back sear and is replaced by hunger. I’m going to need some serious energy to get me through today!
5.40am. And so it begins. Henry is totally oblivious to the fact I am dying inside (just the way it should be) the toys are already out, breakfast is on and I am about to indulge in a pint of coffee. Now that wasn’t so hard was it?
No. Not at all.