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Losing it


It’s been a heavy few days chez MilkChic.

Small one has been night-waking for a while, often with bad dreams. For the most part, it’s not a problem now – when we are consistent with her routine, she goes to bed at a reasonable time. When we aren’t, she runs riot of course, but that’s our own stupid fault…If she wakes and can’t get back to sleep in the brief window while I’m still capable of standing upright then she comes in with us. Which is fine.

The night before last, she woke up at 2am and couldn’t go back to sleep. And she wouldn’t come in with us because she wanted to sleep in her own bed.

As a result, I spent most of the night awake and singing zombiemum lullabies (hushabye small one, please go to sleep, mummy is tired and soon she shall weep…). At some point, I am ashamed to say I lost it and shouted.

She was trying to go to sleep, she just wasn’t managing it. And she couldn’t understand why mummy wanted her to sleep in mummy and daddy’s bed when she was trying to be a big girl and sleep in her own bed.

I apologised and she finally went to sleep for a couple of hours.The trouble with toddlers is that forgiven is rarely forgotten. The next morning she happily told Mr MilkChic, “Mummy was a tired grumpy last night. She said RAR! And she said 1,2,3…..”

I wonder what stories get to nursery…?

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