I’ve always been a lover of sleep. Even before children, I was the kind of person that would count how many hours I’d be able to get each night, lusting after at least 8 hours. Since then I realised counting would just be like emotional  torture. Knowing I’m only going to get 3 hours would probably make me so upset I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. 

With newborns, you know the deal. They’ll wake up every few hours to feed or nappy change. It then takes you an hour to get back to sleep because you are worried something might happen to them or can’t remember if you put your leftovers in the fridge. You are prepared for it. And you know it will, in most cases, last a few months then they’ll be sleeping through. Bliss.

But it’s after the newborn stage that gets me. My boys both wake up by around 6am. Yes, 6am. Every. Single. Day. Regardless of what time they went to bed. Once they are awake, they are up. 

Boy 1 runs to our room (still at the age of seven) and climbs over me and into our bed with his cold hands and feet. Sometimes he’ll even have a random Lego construction to wave in our faces with pride. 

Then he hears his brother so climbs back over me to go and see him. Yes it’s lovely, they’ll have a ‘chat’ for a few minutes and giggle, but then Boy1 suddenly remembers “hmmm I want to go back to that warm big bed” and just abandons his brother. Climbs back over me, feet still cold. 

Cue screams from Boy2 for being suddenly abandon. So one of us goes to get him and brings him to our bed, where he suddenly decides it’s playtime.

So by about 620 there are four of us in the bed. Two of us trying to sleep, the other two chatting, giggling, wriggling and gradually pushing their parents closer to edge of the bed. 

I thought Boy1 might have grown out of this habit by now (is that wrong?). The bed just isn’t big enough. And all I want is a lie in! 

I want to wake up and see daylight creeping through the gap in the curtains, but know I can just close my eyes and go back to sleep. Or pop down stairs to make a cuppa to bring back to bed without the fear of being hassled for cereal/ toast/ pancakes/ juice/ board games/ Lego. Or even, heaven forbid, have a chat with the hubby. 

Yep I’m selfish. I know one day I’ll miss the fact they want cuddles and a chat when they first wake up. One day I’ll be dragging them out of bed and begging for the slightest bit of conversation I can squeeze out of them. But for now, all I want is one long, quiet, lie-in…