Bad day follows bad night – double #dadtime at its hardest.

A short account of yesterday, which was the counterpoint to the mostly successful and enjoyable days I’ve had so far on my own. But building on the sleep post I made yesterday, it was almost entirely caused by a bad period of sleeping. 

Junior has got a new routine, as he’s back in nursery 3 days a week, Mon-Weds, which he’s finding tiring. Coupled to this the general disruption of Mummy going to work, and a new intake of younger children into his class, and his sleep has for disrupted. Again. He’s been going to sleep earlier to bath with his sister (very cute),which means he’s waking up about 5am. And he doesn’t understand why everyone else isn’t up… Last night he then also woke up about 3am for a bit, before going back to sleep and waking up properly at 5.30am. Which resulted in a very grumpy family, No.2, Mummy and I all got woken up.

It being Thursday, we couldn’t hand the problem to nursery, so I was staring down the barrel of a very long day with two tired babies. And long it proved to be. 

By the time they both crashed out at about 10:30 No.2 had already fallen down the steps into the kitchen – no damage, but not nice for anyone and left me feeling really guilty as it happened when I was literally 2 feet away but too quickly to stop. Then I had to wake Junior up as it was time for the weekly Joe Jingles class, which meant he didn’t get enough sleep – and this was an exceptional time for him to sleep anyway. He’s mostly stopped napping, but when he does need one (every 4-5 days typically) it’s in the afternoon. So he was still grumpy. See if you can spot him in the below picture, this was how I found him after getting No.2 off to sleep!

We made it to Joe Jingles, but late as Junior wanted to do a poo after waking – which was 2 days after the last one, as although potty training is going well, he does wait a while between poos, so it takes a while to get it all out (grim, as know, but the internet doesn’t transmit the smells so you are spared that at least). 

While we had a pleasant lunch at the Pilots Hub at Redhill Aerodrome, when we got back Junior started talking about doing a poo again, and I foolishly ignored him, thinking there couldn’t be anything in there as we’ve never had more than one in 24 hours. No.2 and I sat in the garden while he went upstairs to get something – shortly after he runs off his head appears in his bedroom window, I thought waving and saying hello – he even started to read one of the books on his windowsill. But in fact what he was trying to communicate that he’d done a huge poo in his pants. Cue emergency shower with complete clothes change, and a crying No.2 while I ignored her to achieve this. 

The knock-on delay to dinner then that meant they were both so tired that they didn’t really want to eat, particularly Junior who is fussy at the best of times (although in fairness he did eat nearly 4 chipolatas, he refused everything else without tasting it). Safe to say I could not wait for Mummy to get home. Fortunately Southern Fail actually haven’t been too bad since she went back, so she was on time.

But we all survived with no harm done, and I have to remember I had a few rough days last time round too. But I was mostly left feeling guilty as it was all things I could/should have avoided. Oh well, Must Try Harder!


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