What a night! After a wonderful day spent in the company of my friend and her two gorgeous boys, my body decided to add something else to the list of ailments I suffer with. Whilst my friend got herself together, ready to head home, I entertained her youngest in his car seat by squatting down and doing row row the boat. He was loving it and smiling away. Then as my friend reappeared I went to stand up and it felt like something snapped in the back of my right foot. I could still walk on it but was aware of it. As they day went on it became more painful to weight bare on that foot. I tried to rest it and sit with and ice pack on it, but dinner and tidy up duties still beckoned. Life can’t just come to a rest when you have a 21 month old. When hubby came home I explained and he said it sounds like the tendon. We decided there’s nothing anyone can do so I just need to rest it and keep it moving as it hurts more when it stiffens up.
Dinner and tidying all done, it was time to put the Georgeous to bed. We gathered his favourite teddies and blanket and milk and I read him his obligatory three stories and he promptly fell to sleep. He’s always, since the day he was born, preferred to hold my finger when he falls to sleep and I usually wait a few minutes before I gently take my finger and slip his favourite teddy in its place. As he started to drift though I heard my body say,
“how you doing mummy, coping alright hobbling on your sore foot? How abouts we throw some diarrhoea into the mix just to make things interesting”.
Taking a chance and removing my hand only seconds after he closed his eyes, I hurriedly hobbled to he bathroom where I remained for quite some time. By this point I was starting to think I had been someone terrible in a past life and this was my comeuppance. Tucking myself rather sorrowfully into bed, I called on hubbie to provide me with some water and tablets and to remember to bring George’s nighttime milk to bed. After watching celeb big brother, I fell asleep.
Waking at 1, I heard George from his room next door, asking for his milk. Climbing out of bed and painfully hobbling towards his room, hubbie, still awake and watching comedy shows on his iPad, asked me what I was doing.
“George is asking for his milk” I replied
“No he isn’t” he responded. “You must’ve dreamt it”.
I suffer with quite loud tinnitus so I don’t always trust my hearing so I hobbled back to bed. No sooner had I laid down though than I heard George asking for his milk. I was right. Milk run done. Back in bed. Foot throbbing now. Stomach rumbling after the previous few hours undesired evacuation. Hubbies iPad noise distracting me. I lay there frustrated. I have just started some new tablets which are listed as causing insomnia and they are preventing me from falling back to sleep quickly once I’m disturbed. Something I usually have no trouble with. Hubbie said he had been trying to get to sleep for over an hour and so resorted to watching a show and the volume was already very low. Trying to ignore it I suddenly realised that hubbie had fallen asleep. The loud snoring gave it away. Sigh.
At some point in time, unknown to any man or woman, I fell back to sleep. Only to be woken at 4:30 by the most almighty crashing and banging downstairs. Convinced someone was breaking in (although my cats often cause me to believe this), I grabbed hubbie by the shoulders and started violently shaking him to try and wake him. All the while telling him “there’s loads of noise downstairs, I think someone is breaking in!” Nothing! Shaking him as much my strength would allow I gave up as he stayed fast asleep.
As I hobbled downstairs it quickly became apparent that our ‘intruder’, was actually the neighbours cat, Charlie. I used the term neighbour very loosely, as, after some inquiring on the local Facebook page, I found he lives across the fairly main road and two streets away! Having only started to let our cats out several weeks ago, their scent has attracted our rather unwanted admirer. I’m a huge cat fan, so I can’t help but find him adorable. But in this instance, adorable was the last word I would use to describe him!
Kitchen sealed off and cats calmed down, I hobbled back to bed. And this is where I lay, wide awake until 5:30 when George woke again for more milk. Climbing into his toddler bed with him I thought I’d see if I could settle any better with him. We’ve only recently stopped co sleeping so I wondered if this could also be contributing to my restlessness. I eventually gave up on this plan and retired back to my own bed, now flooded with daylight. I managed to grab another hour before George woke just before 7 and it was time to start the day. Oh well. As they say, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
Until next time……..