You know as a teenager I could sleep like no ones business. Obviously I always stayed up far too late (I was a teenager after all) but I could sleep until lunch time with total ease. I have to admit I really loved it.
I could never comprehend why older people were up so flaming early when they had no logical reason to be, no kids to look after and no work to go to. Nothing pressing requiring them to leave their beds at some disgustingly unnecessary early hour.
As I got a bit older I still loved my quilt as much as life itself and on the days I could get away with it I would happily slumber my days away.
Then responsibility took over and my slumbering was confined only to weekends because earning a living required me to get my backside out of bed all week long. (Being a grown up is rubbish like that!)
Then I had a baby and sleeping in became almost as unlikely as winning the lottery.
Then I had another baby straight after and I had to reluctantly admit defeat. There would be no more sleeping until noon for me until the kids were older, even if I were sick or had been up all night keeping someone else company.
A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to sleep in one morning. I smiled sleepily as Rob left our bedroom to entertain our offspring who have yet to realise how truly delicious sleep is. (Well generally they sleep 12 hours but I'd prefer they slept longer or I get to bed two hours earlier, the former being more likely than the latter.)
Then I lay there and tossed and turned and dozed but never actually fell asleep.
So I got up and started the day thinking nothing of it.
Fast forward to today. A repeat occurrence of the above. I snuggled under my covers for 40 minutes loving the cosiness and feeling cocooned in a wonderful snuggly world of warmth.
Willing sleep to come.
Sleep never came.
So I reluctantly got up.
My children have seriously damaged me. They have caused the part of me that can sleep like a champ to short circuit. I fear it is unrepairable.
Without even realising it I have become one of those older people who cannot sleep past 8am.
Could I be more devastated?
I am officially in mourning for my loss of ability to sleep soundly for more than 8 hours.
Yet another unexpected product of parenting that I didn't know I had signed up for.
I should have read that small print.