I know I know, I go on and on and on about my little girl’s night time habits like she’s some kind of demon child.
I must sound like a totally neurotic mum. Or a real misery.
It’s not like she brings her freezing cold feet into our bed every night demanding to snuggle up inbetween us and sleep like a star fish (like her brother used to do).
She doesn’t wake up at 5am, or cry herself to sleep or wet the bed for attention (oh yes, I have known adorable little children who have all resorted to these tricks).
But oh my goodness she does test us. And she absolutely knows exactly how far she can push it.
Tonight I can hear her banging around so I go in and she looks up at me with those big, brown, innocent eyes and she doesn’t even look the slightest bit guilty, just all shocked and surprised and she has that “what?” expression on her face like all she’s been trying to do is get to sleep and why am I disturbing her.
I look down at her duvet which absolutely does not look like it’s only covering a little girl-sized shape.
I pull back the covers and there, scattered around the bed, are a red plastic plate, a selection of hair slides (never used these days since the hair cutting incident) and a large, pink plastic baby’s bath.
I have no idea what her plans were for these items, but as I’m taking them out of her bed and putting them back in their place, I can hear her chuckling away to herself and doing that mock hiding under the covers thing that she thinks is hilarious.
So I leave the room, blow her a kiss and she whispers: “that was fun wasn’t it mummy?”
. . . I have just come upstairs to peek in her room (it’s about 10pm) and discover that she has since been out of bed again, put Daniel’s favourite cuddly dog ON HIS HEAD while he sleeps, moved his portable nightlight into the wardrobe and put two pairs of shoes on the end of his bed – under the duvet.