Saturday Morning Monologue

Ugh, uh, uuuuhhhh, god no, really? Wait what time is it? 5.59? Ugh couldn’t you wait one more minute?…Oof my turn to get up I suppose… is he actually asleep? He’s quiet for someone who usually sounds like a train rumbling by when he’s sleeping… Oh god, you’re going to wake your sister up, aren’t you…

Run down stairs to the BSCB’s room which he shares with The Eldest

…fuck me it’s cold, quick quick quick quick please don’t wake your sister up please don’t wake her up don’t wake her up please please please please…

Reach side of cot

Shhhhhh shhhhh shhhh come here you little shitter, oh that’s right, drape yourself over my shoulder and go back to sleep. Couldn’t do that in your cot, no? Come on then, we’re getting back in bed. Please don’t wake up please don’t wake up pleasepleasepleaseplease…

Return to bedroom

Ah yes. NOW he’s asleep. Fuck me, how DOES he sleep through that noise, it sounds like I’m sharing a room with a great fat pig, one who’s had stones shoved down its throat… ok lie down, here in the middle. Move up a bit, piggy, otherwise there’s no room at the inn. Ok shhhshhhh shhhhhh go back to sleep. Mummy’s here. Mummy’s here…shhhhhshhhhhhhh WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP PIG-MAN… This little fucker’s gonna wake up and it’s going to be ALL YOUR FAULT FUCKING PIGGY PIGGY PIG MAN… ok he’s asleep. And relax. And breath.

Lie down to go back to sleep

My left arm’s a bit cold. Let me just wriggle some more cover over it…oh bugger. Perhaps I can move him? He won’t wake up, he’s fast asleep, right? My arm’s really quite cold. Man, I’m never going to get back to sleep now, I’m too cold. FOR FUCKS SAKE WOULD YOU STOP SNORING MAN? What time is it? 6.05? I can’t risk it, I’ll just lie here. My arm will be fine. Cold but fine…

…shhhhshhhhshhhhhh stop squealing, go back to sleep, my arm is cold… shhhh shhhh. Oh shit you’re awake. Yeah yeah I hear you… I’m Ma-Ma though, not Na-Na. Why don’t you ever go back to sleep for longer than ten minutes, you little shit? What time is it? 7.10?! Oh it’s morning! Ah my good boy! Such a good boy… No not my nose. Or my eye. When was the last time I cut your finger nails anyway? Shit those things are sharp. Am I bleeding? Oof don’t lean there, god I need a wee. Ouch. No! Stop it! Get your foot out of my face, no that’s not funny…Come here then, yes yes I’ll take off your sleeping bag…

And so it begins.

PS. I would like to say that the swearing at the “husband” in my head is the kind of swearing that only happens in the middle of the night when I have been rudely awakened. I’m sure we’re not the only ones who have had a blazing row in the early hours, only to wake up the next morning, look at each other and think, “What was all that about, then?”

4 thoughts on “Saturday Morning Monologue

  1. Any row mid-interrupted sleep is not really a row at all it is merely a venting of sleep deprivation therefore will never be spoken of again….unwritten rules of parenting 😉 👌 great post x


  2. Ha! Everything is so much worse in the middle of the night. How can I rage so much and then not really remember what it was all about once 7.30am comes? The hatred I have for my husband in the small hours is quite worrying sometimes! Also, how quickly do babies’ nails grow? My pair are like Edward Scissorhands every few days usually…


    1. Yes! It IS hatred, isn’t it! The number of times I have imagined how much easier my life would be if the “husband” was not there… and then I wake up the next morning and he makes me a cuppa, and I wonder what on earth was I thinking!
      And Edward Scissor hands? Oh yes – complete with tiny knicks and scratches and cuts all over their faces (insert hands over eyes emoji!)


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