The usual pre-5am woke up, followed by a short sleep and rapid wakeup with kick to face, boobs and c-section scar (which still hurts when you get kicked in it).
Grumpy had to be up for work, so I didn’t stop him getting up, whilst I closed my eyes and pretended I was elsewhere. Like Mars.
Sadly 15 month old boys don’t get “pretending to be asleep” and continued to kick various body parts, jab eyes and stick fingers up noses (his and mine). Then scream very loudly, decide he wanted daddy, climb over me, carefully placing pointy knees firmly on boobs, hands on trachea and elbows in various other bits that don’t like being jabbed with elbows, crawl off bed head first, crawl into bathroom, manage to slide shower screen across and climb into shower with daddy.
Fine, except that he forgot to, and is totally incapable of, removing pyjamas. Which also happened to be a one piece grow suit, which we discovered requires two awake and well-functioning adults to remove.
I.e. Not us at that point in time.
Retrieved towel, removed baby and wrapped him to avoid drippage and slippage, he proceeded to scream even more loudly than before (teeth, must be his teeth), kicked some and screamed louder still. Sit on floor hugging baby in pointless attempt to calm him.
He thanked me by doing a huge wee over every piece of clothing I was wearing. And screaming just a bit more.
Sit him on lap whilst attempt to check emails, plan my day and become increasingly pissed off at hubby’s ability to luxuriate in a shower, totally oblivious to the