My Psychic Baby

 

 

Picture the scene…  You’re dozing off to sleep, you went to bed much later than you promised yourself and you’re JUST reaching that point of sheer bliss where you’re practically unconscious.  And then it happens.  Through the monitor, the noise that sends chills down your spine and makes you jump 10 feet in the air.  It’s the baby.  Your beloved, gorgeous, smiling little person who was desperate to get to sleep just a few small hours ago, has decided that the exact moment you are falling asleep is the precise time they need a poo / new nappy / drink / dummy / comforter / play / cuddle (delete as appropriate). 

 

You lay there for a few seconds, hoping and praying that ‘he’ will hear it.  He has to hear it.  The monitor is right next to his head, for goodness sake!  But somehow, he sleeps blissfully through.  You try kicking him (gently, of course) to see whether that’ll make him stir.  But no, he’s dead to the world.  Hauling your sleepy-self out of bed, you gloomily stagger in a zombie-like state to the baby’s room.  Then they look at you, or coo, or cry, it matters little.  They melt your heart in a fraction of a second, regardless.  You switch from zombie to Mummy and it doesn’t even matter that you’re exhausted any more, your instincts insist that you take care of this little human and make everything right for them again.

 

 

You kiss them softly, gently place them back in their bed and tiptoe out of that room like a world-class ninja. 

 

 

Back in bed, you shoot a glare over to your completely clueless hubby, happily dreaming away next to you.  As you begin to drift off again, you wonder…  How do they know?  How do they always manage to wake at the precise moment you are drifting off?

 

 

Can you relate?

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