7pm. Kids fall asleep on my bed and I put them into their own beds.
10pm. I find my daughter in my bed. I put her back into her own bed, then I get into mine and go to sleep.
11pm. Daughter gets out of her bed, and into mine.
12am. I mutter expletives and put Daughter back into her own bed.
1am. Son wakes up. I get into his bed to
stop him waking the whole street soothe him.
2am. Son kicks me out of his bed (literally). I lie on the pull out guest bed, shivering and cursing myself for forgetting to buy a spare duvet. Again.
3am. Son still awake. I get back into his bed as I can’t feel my toes.
4am. Son is FINALLY back asleep. I creep back into my own room, only to find hubby star fishing, and taking up all the room.
4.05am. Hubby has a bruised rib, I have some bed.
5am. A car alarm goes off outside. I bury my head under my pillow and call my neighbours names.
6am. The alarm clock goes off. I ignore it.
7am. The alarm is still going off. I’m still ignoring it.
8am. I’m cursing the entire world and too busy looking for missing lunch boxes to remember to brush my hair, or put socks on.
9am. School run finished. Gridlock traffic, so I head to Costa for breakfast.
9.15am. I realise I am not wearing socks, and haven’t brushed my hair. CRINGE.
9.16am. I realise I am not the only one in Costa in a similar situation.
11am. Made it home alive. Damn traffic.
11.30am. Have decided to get rid of the kids’ playroom and turn it into my bedroom.
12pm. Have ordered myself a King Size Bed.
12.15pm. Realise the playroom is 2 storeys below the kids’ bedrooms and I’ll have even further to carry them.
12.30pm. Eats all the cake. And Chocolate. And Shortbread.
Have you bought anything silly in a sleep deprived state?