Who made the suggestion to move Tiny into a big girl's bed? Who? Raise your hand. Put your hand up and tell me who.
Oh. It was... me.
Whoa nelly. What kind of a weekend has this been?
It's been the kind of weekend when Tiny gets her big girl's bed. And subsequently climbs out of it. Fifty million times.
Saturday heralded a new beginning. The beginning of the end of my sanity, given she was awake until 12:30am getting in and out of her bed, wheeling a trolley around in her bedroom, in half darkness. Until finally I could take it no more. I told her gently it was bed time and she must stay in there. I played with her hair until she fell asleep.
Then she woke up at 3:30am crying. 'What the heck? Where am I? What is this?? A big girl's bed?!' And then woke again at 6:30am which for me is equally as rude as being woken at 3:30am.
Sunday night I hoped for better things to come. She was tired after her night out and about. But as my sister Choc has mentioned before, the girl has stamina.
She was awake again until 12:30am. And even then I think she was playing possum. She came pitter-pattering into our room at 1:30am. I was up and down, up and down like a jack-in-the-box. I tried hard to coax her back into her bed to no avail. She finally settled in our bed, and throughout the night I found her in different positions, including sitting on my head. If I so much as moved, she'd throw a huge spac attack.
I don't so much need a life buoy now as I need a nanny and a really good nap. Without small feet pattering in to see me and sit on my head every ten minutes.
Is it wrong, that right now I'd swap a little siesta with this little donkey for my cheeky mouse of a daughter?
Image found when googling images of a sleeping baby. Et voila - the image I never knew I wanted. A sleeping donkey and a baby. Google, you really are so good to me.