|He doesn’t sleep like this in his bed|
Ned, two and a half, but with the obstinacy and obduracy of someone in their 70’s, has declared war on me. He’s undertaken a Blitzkrieg style land grab and is holding on for dear life.
He’s stolen my side of the bed.
Somewhere between two and 5 o’clock in the morning he comes into our room and duffs me up until I leave my warm bed for his room and shelter under his single duvet with the Peppa Pig cover. This is of course nothing new but the key change is how he is now waging a psychological war on me as well. The other night he came in dead early- about 11ish and I duly obliged and sloped off to his bed, only for him to come into his room at 5am and demand that I vacate my second bed of the night so he could take my place AGAIN. When I woke up an hour and a half later I had no idea where I was.
Similarly, when he was naughty the earlier today and I sent him to his room, I came up to find him sitting on MY bed looking sorry for himself. He’s now taken to putting his teddies on my bed when he comes up stairs to get ready for bed because lets face it, we all know where he’s going to end up don’t we?
This has to end but none of us have got the energy to put him back to bed 100 times, spend 2 hours listening to him pound his tiny fists on his door or settle the boy and Fifi when Ned wakes them up for half the night.