We had some friends round for a sleepover on Saturday. I had to go into training to stay awake in the evening as I was very tired from not sleeping in the week after nights spent treading the boards with leg cramps. On Friday I saw the midwife. "How are you?" she asked. "I feel awful. So tired and sick," I said, hoping that she was going to prescribe four-week minimum bed rest on full pay courtesy of a government grant for old people who are pregnant. No such luck. She hardly batted an eyelid. So by Saturday I was barely able to get up and we ended up not getting dressed till around 2pm. We had woken up fairly early with good intentions, but I could feel my eyes lowering after writing three rhyming poems about animals [guinea pig, hamster and mouse] by 11am with bonkers and big girl daughters. The next thing I knew it was around 1pm. I blame my semi-conscious state while I was at Tesco for my failure to buy anything in the way of pudding for the evening. My friend arrived around 3pm and we had a lovely time. Her children and mine get on really well, so well in fact that they didn't go to bed until circa midnight. They blamed the adults for laughing too loudly and keeping them awake.
We did okay on the children's dinner, but I guess lollipops and angel delight are not really the kind of thing most adults are wanting for pudding of a Saturday evening [although there is little in this world that surpasses a butterscotch angel delight in my humble opinion]. My partner cooked a lovely lentil and chicken dish. Then came bedtime. I swear we had another double duvet in what can loosely be described as the airing cupboard [lots of sheets stuffed into a small space]. However, it seemed to have completely vanished when I went to look. I considered giving our duvet to my friends and swapping it for sleeping bags, but I knew my partner would not take kindly to that, plus big girl daughter was in our bed and the thought of squeezing her into a single sleeping bag and the very high possibility that she would end up kicking my pregnant tummy all night kind of put me off. I resorted to desperate measures. I pulled off the blankets from big girl daughter's bed.
So...my friends ended up sleeping with a Barbie cover, a baby blanket and another blanket which may or may not have come into contact with the wee blanket some time during the previous evening. Not only that, but they were in the room next to the guinea pigs. I am not an expert on guinea pigs, but I was hoping that they did not share the same nocturnal habits as hamsters. Apparently they do...Plus on the other side of the room lurked the cat, who possibly has either a cold or throat cancer and who tends to wake at 4am and scratch the door until you give in and let him out [we have no cat flap as the door is glass]. So perhaps not the full five star treatment. I fell asleep, after a sudden boost of energy, reading an article about how having more than one but certainly more than two children is horribly irresponsible and will soon become socially unacceptable.
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