I’m one week in. It feels like 8.
Out of 7 nights Reilly has woke up 5 of them at 4am.
I hate 4am – it’s not night anymore and it’s too early to be morning. He doesn’t wake up grumpy, he wakes up like it’s the greatest day on earth and he’s ready for it. He spends approximately 30 mins alternating between trying to manoeuvre the tip of my nose inside his belly button, lying across me like a plank and sitting on my head. I don’t mind this part as I can keep my eyes closed and stay in a lying down position.
4.30am ish he likes to play tents but only with me putting the torch on my phone. He thinks its hilarious, me not so much.
5am ish The roller blind goes up and I shrivel up like Edward Cullen when the light streams through the window. Reilly takes this opportunity to practise his jumps from the window ledge onto the bed. Still ok because I’m still lying down, after I double-check the window locks of course because mark my words he’d be out the window and onto the ledge in second.
I try to lure him back into bed by putting videos of people’s holiday vlogs on youtube and lie for half an hour responding to his points where I MUST respond with the right word so no winging it with my eyes shut. If he points at pool and I say balcony i’m for it.
Around about this time we get up. I hobble across the floor because my plantar fascitis is killing me and he jumps on my back at the top of the stairs so I can piggy back him down and we count every stair on the way and he runs his fingers along the crappy old artex at the top of the stairs.
He bursts into the living room like its 1999. Big lights on and they are that bright its like being interrogated by the FBI. He opens the door into the conservatory and an icy fog creeps into the living room.
I attempt to make a cup of tea which he routinely takes off me and pours down the sink and I retreat like a bear with a sore head onto the settee and wrap myself in the throw which he will always come and remove while I try my best to keep my eyes open and pray he gets tired again soon all the while he bounces up and down to the equally energetic ratbag Pocoyo on the telly.
Have I got another 5 weeks of this for some type of normality to return? I’m too tired. If I was one of those people who could get into bed and go to sleep after Reilly does it wouldn’t be so bad but that’s not me. I listen to meditation apps, rain sounds on a tent on youtube, and parts of an audiobook before even thinking about dropping off to sleep.
And that’s just the start of the day. We have many hours of fun to fill in between before the debacle starts again.
So if you see me in the next few weeks and I look like a walking dead extra you know why. All down to my little super cute stealer of sleep Reilly.