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1-4 Yrs: The Buggy Blog - British Summer? Bah!
Grr. Now that it's officially summer, I know I should be all full of the joys … but that pesky clock change doesn't half throw you. At the time of writing, we're nearly a week into British Summer Time. You wouldn't think so looking outside; the rain's belting down and the sky's a decided shade of 'rogue-black-sock-in-the-white-wash' grey. Weather aside though, there's no avoiding the fact the clocks have changed. Bedtime has become a battle of wills. As light filters betrayingly through the curtains and J resists my entreaties to drop off, I hunch my petulant shoulders window-ward and adopt the stuck-record approach: At the other end of the night, however, it's been a different kettle of fish. For the first time in months – well forever actually – all three have slept on in a drugged-like coma until … gasp … after 7am. Hurrah you'd think. Time to snuggle further under the duvet and luxuriate in the wicked extravagance of a bonus forty winks. But no, with the clock ticking away until the whistle blows for the start of another school-run, lounging under the covers is strictly off limits. So, with a disbelieving humph, I stick a foot tentatively out from under the covers, quickly followed by the rest of yours reluctant truly before I can change my mind – oh the injustice of leaving a warm bed while the babes slumber on. And after a quick *invigorating* shower (eyes closed, water rivuleting down my scowling face), I pull on some clothes and address the daunting task of raising three small children from the dead. Predictably, everyone comes to in a foul mood. Let's face it, no one likes being dragged from their reveries. Not least these young chaps who are probably thick into a thrilling dream about fire engines rescuing Thomas the Tank Engine from sharp-intake-of-breath peril while Whinnie the Pooh and a couple of diggers look on.
Then once I've hauled them out of their beds, we positively storm through the morning routine like a clutch of reluctant colleagues on a corporate teambuilding outward bound event. Slowly and grouchily. By the time we're ready to leave the house … late … for school, we're all in a thoroughly bad mood. So much for my resolution to hit the school run in good spirits. Still, this hour-change sleep disruption will blow over soon enough (though woe betide when we venture further afield on holiday and encounter the joys of jetlag). But at the end of the day, d'you know what's really getting my goat? The impending Easter holidays. Nice in prospect of course, but crucially not soon enough. By the time we actually get there, the boys' body clocks will of course be fully adjusted and they'll revert to waking full of beans at half six every morning. Rats, there goes that fantasy of a post 7am lie-in whistling out the window … Just an idea. Does anyone fancy joining my campaign to have the clock changes adjusted to coincide with the school holidays? |
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