Bedtime. We three pile into Little Miss' single bed.
I pull out three stories. We argue over which to read first.
At the end of story time, it's lights out. No moving The Baby into her cot. No, mama does not give her cherubs a kiss goodnight, and confidently walks out the door.
Mama balances on the edge of the single bed until Little Miss and The Baby fall asleep. The trundle is pulled out. There is a good chance Little Miss or The Baby will end up sleeping on it at some point in the night.
Little Miss and The Baby insist on sleeping together. They hold hands until they fall asleep. It's lovely.
What isn't lovely is that they want me to lie with them and cuddle both of them equally. If I so much as move, they stir. At any time of the night.
A toilet break is a luxury. A good night's sleep is a dream.
Last night both fell asleep quickly. I moved The Baby to the trundle successfully and tip toed out. I was so ecstatic that I went to bed, my bed, immediately. I didn't bother telling Mr Lucky. I was too excited to be reacquainted with my own bed and pillow.
It didn't last long. I tossed and turned. Something was wrong. I peaked into their room to find Little Miss and moved to the trundle and was cuddling the baby. I crept out and back to my bed.
At about three, I heard The Baby crying out for me. I ran (read my previous blog entitled Jealousy to understand why). I swiftly picked her up and we lay down on Little Miss' bed.
At five I felt Little Miss pulling at me. We were back to position one, Little Miss against the wall, The Baby in the middle, and mama hanging on for dear life on the edge.
I sighed and the nursery rhyme came to mind 'There were three in the bed and the little one said roll over!'
Patience is what I am told. Two more years and they won't want you...that's a long time.