I have nights where I just don’t sleep great and wake in the early hours. Sometimes I can get back to sleep, other times I have to get up and have a cup of tea and read for a bit. This has been going on for a number of years, I can’t find a specific cause, probably hormones as I’ve hit the premenopausal years, lucky me. So I spent an hour reading on the sofa with Cat, who was absolutely disgusted I was there, unless I was kind enough to pop a few biscuits in his bowl. Which of course I did, because I am a people pleaser. Because I had a small party for one at 3am I didn’t exactly jump out of bed when the alarm went off, and it’s Easter holidays so what am I rushing for? The happy little people have been up for a while, and all seems okay in the TV and iPad zone. Husband rolled out of bed at 7:45am, made a cup of tea for us both and headed into Child One’s bedroom. I stay hidden in my bedroom for a while, and take the opportunity to hear my own thoughts. Some of my mum friends get up before their children to get that initial alone time before the chaos begins. I’ve tried that, but it means getting up at 5:30am, which seems obscene and when I’ve done it before one of my happy little people has sensed movement and joined me, completely defeating the objective.
Twin Two’s class have a Facebook group and it’s been suggested on there that the children decorate a boiled egg and we send photos for the teacher to judge and declare a winner. The Twins are in separate classes so this already causes an issue as there’s no way Twin One is going to let Twin Two do something she’s not doing. So, two boiled eggs are provided with various arts and crafts to let them get on with it. This task is completed pretty quickly and obviously it’s whetted their appetite for making stuff and Child One has poked his head in to see what’s going on. So I set them the task of making something from the recycling. My sister-in-law had given the twins a set that provides accessories to help you make things out of typical recycling stuff. The problem with this is that there are set instructions, which the happy little people have no patience to follow. It involves cutting out things carefully, Child One is a lefty and we have no left-handed scissors, so he immediately gets frustrated. Twin One is trying to open glue but has nowhere to put the glue, so it’s dripping on the floor. Cat has decided to investigate and gives the glue a sniff (whatever gets you through these times, no judgment). It’s carnage, I need a teaching assistant. I do my best to keep my temper under some form of control and try to create some order to help them complete the projects. Once done, I send them outside into the garden and lock the back door. I need them out of the way to clear up and make lunch. It’s like watching a very dramatic and slightly violent silent movie from the kitchen window. At one point I thought they were acting out a scene from Gladiators, only they’ve not seen it. The squabbling that takes place, the protesting at the window for me to reprimand as they see fit. I zone them out so I can get on and only unlock the door once food is on the table. I know my kids well enough to know when h’anger is kicking in. They are delighted to be presented with lunch and things settle. I have a light bulb moment; I need to make packed lunches the day before, so they are ready in the fridge. I need to pretend they are going to school, if only.
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