Monday 11 February 2013
One of the things I dread doing at the moment, but have to do almost daily is to wake up Henry.*
At five to three I creep upstairs and as gently as possibly I say, "come on Henry, wake up, time to go and get Coco".
Generally this is ignored and his eyes close even tighter in a childlike denial kind of way. He resists, he cries,
"No Mummy, sleep time" he says. "Lie down" he protests as I pick him up from his warm cocoon of a cot.
Then I have to tell him that we're going on the bike.
"Buggy... car!?" he desperately tries to negotiate, and it's only with the promise of banana or raisins that I normally get him transferred to the bike seat.
When the helmet is pulled on he really wakes properly with the volume of his own protests... sometimes the wailing is the soundtrack all the way to the school gates.
I'm really trying to bring his sleep time earlier but sometimes even if I put him down at 12.30 he doesn't actually drop off to sleep until 2 or later. It's so frustrating!
Not fun for Henry, and not much fun for me.
This is the face that is saying, "no, please don't make me get up Mummy". Or maybe, it's just "this is weird, why are you taking photos of me in bed?".
*Yep one of those disclaimers - which I feel compelled to add whenever I'm about to moan about anything.
I know I should just be counting my blessings that he still has a nap, and I much prefer that he naps and I have to wake him than that he didn't nap at all but, you know, I still don't like doing this.