A bit Pete Tong

Crashed out on the sofa

This evening didn’t quite go to plan.  Alby’s afternoon nap lasted over two hours and, somewhat predictably, when it then came to bedtime he wasn’t interested.  He finally crashed out at 9:30pm, two hours later than I would have liked.

Having spoken at length to my mum earlier about the importance of picking your battles when it comes to life with a toddler this was a good example of needing to listen to my own advice.  Yes, I was thoroughly unimpressed that he was still full of beans when 9pm came and passed but he was smiling, giggling and running about without a care in the world; I can’t really complain about that. 

The return down South has definitely knocked Alby for six.  As if the change in settings wasn’t enough I instantly threw in a manic birthday party, to-ing and fro-ing from his grandparents house and, today, a trip to the office to see the lovely set of people I work with.  Add to that a nasty cough (which I’m blaming on teeth) and a well established back log of bad sleep (which my mama and I have concluded comes from a growth spurt / getting his weight back up after his last bout of sickness) and it’s a bit of a wonder that he’s even asleep right now!

But he is asleep.  Lying horizontally across my bed, his head inches away from Percy’s snoring face.  I’ve just had to write up notes for my in-laws who will be babysitting him tomorrow and I confess I smiled the whole way through jotting down the “routine” as it’s a mish mash of possibilities, but we’ll all work our way through it.  It can take me a bit of time to drop my guard and just accept the disconnect between what I was expecting and what I’m getting but with my parents both here to chase him around the hallway, read the story book for the umpteenth time and hand out cuddles for us all, I’m in the best possible place for when it all goes a little tits up.