I’ve been sick lately.  Well, more like for the past month.  As a chronic asthmatic, my life is regulated by inhalers, and when winter strikes, well, it all goes downhill.  For the past month I’ve been wheezing, coughing and had no voice.  When I went to the doctor, he said ‘Well, there’s not much we can do, so probably best you just take some paracetamol if needed and rest.”  Sure thing.  I’ve got 2 very mobile, very active 1 year olds.  Rest isn’t really an option in my day.

Actually, I should stop complaining here.  My husband was off work for 2 weeks and he was incredible – he let me sleep in and took care of a lot of the household tasks whilst I did get a lot of rest.  But he had to go back to work, and so, for the past 2 days I’ve been on my own.

Yesterday, was one of those whingy, whiny days.  And that was just me.  I got through the morning ok, put them down for a nap, and decided to rest a bit myself. But the small people had other ideas.  30 minutes later, they were awake and ready to carry on with the chaos, mayhem and destruction they caused.

It got to around afternoon snack time (seriously, my kids just keep eating. I’m pretty sure my whole day is just preparing them food or searching out more snacks.) and I’d given them their cookie and dried fruit snack.  I’d also done the 500th load of dishes, gotten their dinner ready, vacuumed the mess from lunch, tidied up … and being sick, I was exhausted.

My body was telling me I needed to rest.  So I decided to sit on the couch, which progressed to lying on the couch.  I knew the small people would be ok, as recently we installed the baby-cage (otherwise known as a baby safety fence), so I put on some BabyTV and let myself relax a little.  And yes, I nodded off.

To be honest, I’ve been woken up in much more subtle ways – buckets of cold water, shrieking alarms, my tent being dismantled …

But never, ever have I been woken up by the giggles of 1 year old twins as they shove fingers in your nose, mouth and belly button.  At least, not until now.

And the moral of my story – it might be a baby proof fence, but it’s not a Mama-safe nap zone!

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Let us out!

 

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