The Austin Powers style wee at 3 AM was particularly satisfying for Toddler boy, it was not what I wanted to supervise. It followed an evening with Fifi literally forcing me to put more and more calamine cream on her chicken pox, then a stint in Toddler Boys bed where he tried to torture me by taking all the duvet away, so I was sort of lying like an icy cold plank. One that is squashed to within an inch of life against a bed rail. Following the wee, there was so much hilarity in our bed that the hubby abandoned ship and went to toddler boys bed. No point us all suffering.
Eventually, after conversations based around the words “look! What at?” and an awful lot of wind, he went to sleep. Like clockwork, Fifi woke up at around five (the deluded hubby things it was 6am) to cries of “mummmeee, milk” and so I sit here nursing a jaffa cake and wondering if I should offer my services to the military as some sort of sleep deprivation expert. Walking proof that humans can survive for over three years without much sleep and still have a tiny bit of patience.
I’m wondering where all this energy comes from, not mine personally, the kids energy. I’ve seen other children, they sleep, get tired and even ask for a rest. Mine don’t. Ever. Even with Chicken Pox the both of them have not stopped, there has been constant running around, demands for cream and nappy changes and toys that are upstairs and they have had hours of fun converting the sofa into a space ship using the cushions as slides and receptacles for belly flops. Even the bits of the sofa under the cushions have a faint aroma of calamine. Toddler boy has been known to make boys twice his age cry with exhaustion after dramatic water pistol battles and much running around, determination is Fifi’s middle name.
I’m not asking for sympathy here, its just a record of life with two toddlers. If you are thinking of having a baby, considered yourself warned about the realities!