It's time for lunch...

...and we're just having breakfast.

I let Ewok watch CBeebies while he eats breakfast, and when I switched it on this morning (barely) they were just launching into the 'time for lunch' song that they play everyday at midday.

This is thanks to one of those nights.

Ewok went to bed at 10:30pm last night, a little later than his usual 10:00pm but still not too late. I finally got to bed at about 2:30am after spending too long stitching (as usual) and then suddenly remembering something I wanted to look up on t'internet before I went to bed.

I was struggling to settle to sleep, partly because I kept hearing suspicious noises outside, car doors going and the like, which given where we live and the fact that it was a school night (as they say) struck me as strange. Especially as one of the neighbours has recently warned me about a spate of car burglaries in our street.

So there I was, trying to relax and go to sleep, when all at once the Screaming Toddler Bad Thing Raid Siren (TM) went off at full blast. From 0 - "mummy there's a monster about to eat me" in 2 pico-seconds!

I waited the requisite 2 minutes to see if this was one of his usual "wake in the night, squawk a bit, go back to sleep" routines, but this time the screaming didn't settle down, the sobs got louder and the cot rattling started up. This was at 3:30am

I then spent the next hour and 45 mins in an endless round of cuddles, putting him back in the cot, more screaming and tantrums, teddies being thrown at me and then demanded back, only to be refused and then demanded again when taken away. At one point I lay down on the floor next to the cot with a cushion for a pillow and one of his spare sheets for a blanket and he flung himself over the side of the cot (I'd left the side dropped at this point) and tried to curl up with me. I briefly thought about taking him up to bed with me but I really don't want to go down that route. I did change his nappy, try to put him in his sleeping bag as he felt a bit cold (cue more screaming), gave him a slice of bread and some water (which went down a treat), and sing to him (something that he usually likes, but this time: more screaming). At one point it seemed like his big teddy had 'given him the fear', but when I put it out of the room he only howled louder until I brought it back in again.

I still have no idea what set him off (I'm assuming a nightmare) or what finally settled him down, but at around 5am he finally lay down and looked happy about doing so, so I left him to it. He did still howl for a couple of minutes after I left the room, but this time it was the usual half-hearted "don't wanna be in bed" protest, and then he finally dropped off again.

I left a strategically placed "Be vewwy vewwy qwiet (hunting wabbits)" note for Wookiee, promising dire things should he wake Ewok up while prepping to leave for work himself (at about 7am) and finally managed to get back to bed myself. It was still around 6am before I fell asleep.

Then, of course, in the way of these things I heard a knock at the door at 8:30am and it was a delivery guy with a parcel for Wookiee. Fortunately this didn't wake Ewok up (his room is right next to the front door) and I went back to bed and sleep.

So I was finally awoke by the usual morning chirping from the monitor at 11:15am, got up and left the bedroom to hear small animal screaming noises from the basement. Went downstairs to find a young blackbird, still alive but definitely the worse for wera, cornered by one of the cats. That went back out the catflap to take it's chances and then I went back up to get Ewok up.

This is when the other shoe dropped.

You see I'm frequently faced with a leaky nappy first thing in the morning. He's been piddling in it all night and then in typical male fashion he takes a poop when he wakes up, which just overloads the nappy. I'd had a faint hope that because I'd changed a quite soggy nappy in the night, I would be spared the leaky one this morning.

No. Such. Luck.

As a special treat, this morning I had to deal with an exploding nappy instead. In fact somehow his pyjama bottoms had escaped the carnage, but he had it all over his hands, and he'd been wiping them on his front, so his top was covered in it. Then when I got the nappy off him I discovered that it had gone up his back, which I suspect is where the stuff on his hands had come from. This was when I stripped him down completely, picked him up by the now wiped down hands, and dangle-carried him to the shower in his bathroom. He doesn't really like the shower but I wasn't messing about trying to get him in the bath. Both the baths in this house are on different floors from his bedroom, whereas he has an en-suite shower room, and the prospect of poopy carnage through the house was enough to steel me to his howls of protest about being showered.

So, in all, a shitty night and a shitty morning. I can't wait for the rest of the day.

(apologies for any spelling mistakes or typos, but I really can't be arsed to proofread)