Dead Leg

At 4.40am Jacob woke up crying. He'd lost Bumble (his toy cat and boon companion), a situation which required immediate attention from Mummy.

Courtesy of some really bad nights sleep and a couple of 5.30am starts, I was utterly knackered last night and was getting some seriously well-needed slumber, so I wasn't best pleased at being woken up. Especially as, after finding Bumble (some 3 inches from his left hand) I heard the plaintive "sleep with me Mummy".

Sigh. This requires sitting down next to his bed, lying your head on his toddler armchair, and attempting to remain comfortable while he drops off to sleep again. He's prone to nightmares, so while I try not to make a habit of this, I have to do it occasionally in order for everyone in the house to get a decent night's sleep.

Anyway, last night I actually managed the unthinkable; I was so tired I actually fell asleep in that most uncomfortable of positions. When I woke up it was 5.30am and both children were hard and fast asleep.

I stood up, preparing to creep silently out of the room and get back to my own bed, only to find with my first step that I'd got a dead leg. With an almighty thump I crashed to the floor and lay there, wrapped round the rocking chair with my face in "Is it Bedtime Wibbly Pig?". How the boys remained asleep during such racket is beyond me.

The only way I could get back to bed was to do a sort of half crawl/half commando shuffle out of the room, on to the landing and then into my own room. I had to haul myself up onto my bed and lie in the position I landed in until I got the life back into my leg.

I was actually quite amused by it at the time and considered waking up Doug to tell him about it. I didn't though. He hasn't got much of a sense of humour at 5.30am, for some reason....