Good morning all
My name is Carmel and I’m a Mombie. Oh yep, today is a day where I’ll be staggering through with a wild glazed look in my eyes which will be from a combination of no sleep and too much coffee. Cup no 3 already in my hand. And it’s only 9.30 a.m.
Twas’ one of those feckin nights in the H house where one by one the smallies moved into our bed.
Now that may sound like I’ve 66 smallies, when in fact I’ve only 2, but it felt like an army last night, who had synchronized their manoeuvres with precise and deadly timing.
First in the door was Nate. In fairness he’s usually a sleep through the night kind of dude, but true to his age, he likes to exercise his toddler right to have a tantrum. And he chose last night to throw a right one.
Source: Pinterest (no author named)
It was one of those tantrums where his hot little body went rigid with arms and legs kicking, from the sheer frustration of whatever drama was ensuing in his 21 month old head. Suffice to say that neither Mr H nor I could quieten him down. So in an effort to stop him waking up Amelia (oh us naive fools!) we decided it was time to call on the help of the big guy.
Yep, in situations like this there’s only one man who has the necessary skills to stop a toddler tantrum in its tracks and I have no shame in admitting that I used him.
So while Mickey Mouse did his thing with Nate calming down with every hot diggity dog uttered by the clubhouse gang, Mr H was relagated to the spare bedroom in an effort to get some sleep. Amelia not surprisingly woke up and thought to herself, that sounds like a lot of fun in Mummy’s bedroom.
So she saunters in clutching her pink handbag like she was on her way to afternoon tea. I kid you not. 3 & 1/2 and she loves her handbags more than I love mine and thats saying a lot!
Finally, I got them settled, Disney Junior was switched off and the three of us attempted to sleep. Two of us slept like logs, but one of us and no prizes for guessing who, spent the night in a tangled mess of 6 arms and 6 legs and 3 heads. Sleepless in Screen. No matter where I rolled in the bed, the smallies were all attracted to me like bees to honey or pigs to well you know.
And so this morning I’m Mombie.
Funnily enough yesterday I wrote a 60 second piece of flash fiction in my Imagine, Write, Inspire writers group about a sleepless night. Here it is, hope you enjoy,
Today by Carmel Harrington
5.01 am. Fecking great.
Why was it that on this very night when I absolutely need to sleep a full 8 hours, on this very night when I especially do not need hideous purple bags under my eyes, that this is the very night when I’m seeing every single hour jog on by. Now it’s so close to getting up time, I’m not even sure if it’s worth my while even attempting to go back to sleep. Maybe I should accept defeat and get up and start getting ready?
I’ve time to have another go at faking it. But should I chance it, on this the most important of days? It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for today.
I’ve not had a very good run of luck with my attempts thus far with the auld fake tan. I’ve tried them all but disaster follows me and the promised allure of a golden brown skin. There was the time I went to Mary’s party with more streaks over my arms than on a pack of Denny’s Streaky Bacon. And who can forget the time I’d been a tad overenthusiastic with my application of ‘Faker Baker’ for last year’s office Christmas party. And Paula – the bitch – was positively gleeful as she shouted across the room at me, ‘Auditions for the Willy Wonka Oompa Loompas over there!’
I should have said to her, ‘Auditions for being a complete fecking wagon this way!’ But instead I hung my orange head in shame and got pissed. Not a good look that mind you, a pissed Oompa loompa.
I’ve always been crap at firing off quick, witty responses to wagons like Paula. I’m great with the cutting retorts when I get home a few hours later. But sure it’s too late then.
So, maybe it’s safer today that I go for pale and interesting. Better not take any chances on this the most important of days.
5.03 a.m. Fecking great.