Goodnight Sweetheart

Or, otherwise entitled…

A momentous occasion is upon us!

Or

Patience is a virtue

Or

Life doesn’t always go to plan

Or

I obviously couldn’t make my mind up what to call this post, could I?

Or

I was thinking of just telling you this as a Facebook post, however, given it’s such a momentous occasion, I think it really deserves a post on the blog instead.

(but that would’ve been a long title!)

goodnight-sweetheart

Ooh, I’ve waited for this for soooooooooo long!

But tonight, will probably feel very strange.

Very strange indeed.

…and I’ve got the collywobbles.

Because tonight……………..wait for it……………………………….don’t worry, it’s not, “Tonight Matthew, I’m going to be Lady Ga Ga  (like that programme, Stars in their eyes* )…………………………..Oh no! Even better than that!………………………Because, tonight, Hannah will be sleeping in her very own, rather lovely bedroom in her very own big girls bed.

HIP, HIP (TRIPLE HIP WITH SOMERSAULTS) HOORAH!

Ok, so, if you’ve not been following us for a while, you may be wondering why a seven year old child hasn’t been sleeping in her own bedroom, in her own grown up bed, for some time already.

So, make yourself a cup of tea [prosecco], get comfy and I’ll waffle on for a bit (you know, like I do).  Verbose is, after all, my middle name *wink*

 

Here’s where it all began…

All excited at the impending birth of our surprise baby, Hannah’s daddy and I prepared the ‘nursery’ ready for our new arrival.  It was all very exciting, I must say.  The plan was that she’d sleep in her Moses basket for a while in our room and then move into her own bedroom.

Erm, well, that was the plan, anyway.

But sadly, plans don’t always come to fruition, do they?

Then, one morning, seven years ago, the proverbial S.H. One. T hit the metaphorical fan.  Apologies for the ‘alludeness to crudeness’ (I just made that up), however, I’m not going to wrap this up and make it pretty.  Because it wasn’t.

Hannah came into our lives (thankfully!) but a Tsunami followed behind – a great big, massive wave, which washed all our plans and dreams away.

There was no plan B.  We weren’t prepared for any of this.  We just had to wing it and hope for the best.

So then, when we eventually got her home to Broccoli HQ, came around-the-clock naso-gastric feeds, scary nights lying awake listening to Hannah’s breathing pattern (and lots of desperate prayers that she’d keep doing it!), SATS monitors (to check enough oxygen was circulating), congestion, vomiting, reflux.  Nights and nights of reflux.  Damn, I HATE reflux!

Separate bedrooms clearly weren’t an option at this juncture.

Then came the desperate need for a specially adapted ground floor bathroom – annexed to a bedroom.  Our existing bathroom just wasn’t going to ‘cut the mustard’ long term.

So consultations with professionals ensued.  They knew the requirements FAR better than us – like how big it needed to be, where it needed to be, what needed to be in it etc).  Plans were drawn up.  Neighbours protested (well, only 1 lot, the rest were incredibly supportive and understanding) They tried anyway…and failed, miserably! (the NIMBY’s don’t talk to us now) *fist pump*.  Apparently, the local paper took it upon themselves to publish a little article on neighbours disputing plans for a disabled child’s bathroom – which was nice of them.  Then council planners discussed it, boxes were ticked, people in suits and frocks approved it, builders were sourced.  And then we waited.  And waited.  And waited.

It was a lengthy process.  But despite the wait, we were (and are) extremely grateful.

So, naturally, yet again, there wasn’t any point settling Hannah in her own bedroom, when it was going to have a great big hole ripped out of it and lots of men traipsing through it.

So she stayed with us.

Then, the builders and electricians and tilers and plumbers and men in suits to check the builders and electricians and plumbers all came.

And after gallons of cups of tea were drunk (each cup containing about 400 spoonful’s of sugar!) and biscuits eaten, the purpose built (and desperately needed by this time) bathroom was ready – with remote controlled ‘disco lights’, courtesy of Hannah’s daddy, because he thought Hannah would like it….bless! (She does, btw)

The disco bathroom was born.  Yay!

But naturally, Hannah’s bedroom now required decorating and re-jigging to make it ‘Hannah friendly’…which all took time, thought, money and consultation.

And then it was ready, phew! and accommodating a brand new toddler bed, chandelier (ooh!) and sparkles on the ceiling.   We were really looking forward to this transition.  A few individuals then took it upon themselves to bring to my attention with a ‘hohoho’ that this’d all be strange, or scary or whatever.  Like I hadn’t considered that already.  Duh!

OF COURSE IT’S GOING TO FEEL STRANGE.  OF COURSE IT’S GOING TO BE A LITTLE SCARY.

OF

COURSE

IT

IS

I DON’T.  NEED.  YOU *points finger in a pointy manner*.  TO.  POINT.  THAT.  OUT….ARGHHHHHHHH!!!!

(That was me shouting, btw.  Sorry about that.  I’ve composed myself now)

But, I’m pretty sure we’ve tackled situations significantly scarier and far stranger than this.  So I suspect we’ll cope.

But, again, plans went awry.  BIG time, this time….

The new plan was, that several weeks prior to the school summer holidays, we’d gradually – through weekend afternoon snoozes – get Hannah used to being in a different room, in a bed, without cot sides *gulp!*

But then, well, if you’ve followed us for a while, you’ll know why.  I won’t go on about it.   Life was put on hold for a long, long time.

So, subsequently, childhoods and love and memories and two whole lives were packed into boxes and Hannah’s bedroom – the only room with any space at Broccoli HQ – accommodated some of it.

And then, to top it all off, we deemed the toddler bed too small for our little poppet, who appeared to have had a bit of a growth spurt when we weren’t looking.

So a new, grown up, big girls’ bed needed to be sourced.

Special beds for kids with disabilities were considered.  However, (a) they looked like/were like cages and (b) on establishing a small family car was comparable on price (I kid you not!), we looked elsewhere.

I trawled the internet for the right one and, surprisingly, John Lewis came up trumps, albeit after several weeks wait as the bed was out of stock.  Just our luck, eh?  *Tuts and rolls eyes*

And now Hannah’s ready.  She’s fed up of her cot, she’s fed up of looking at me first thing in a morning across the bedroom with my bed head and, despite being non-verbal, is able to make her feelings known on this one.  She wants out.  We’re ready too – I want my bedroom back, it’s in dire need of a makeover and, actually, one weekend evening, I’d like to get my jammies on, watch telly and eat crisps and, maybe, drink wine in bed – how utterly ostentatious!  We’re not waiting any longer.  We’re not making any more plans, because plans are just rubbish.  We’re commencing ‘Operation Big Girls Bedroom’ FROM TONIGHT!

Oh my days!

…and, after a night of impending reflux or a tummy bug, it will come to pass that Hannah’s daddy will finally realise that the weeks wages he paid for the beautiful White Company bedding, was, perhaps, not such a good idea, after all! (he meant well though)

So, let’s wrap this up, shall we?  But before I go, I’ll leave you with a quote from Homer, The Oddysey:

“There is a time for many words and there is also a time for sleep”

I’ve done the many words bit (see above)….so it’s PJ’s on and then off to bed we go…let’s hope we do all get some sleep!

Goodnight my darlings.

Wish us luck.  Keep your fingers and toes crossed for many restful slumbers, please.  I’ll keep you posted via facebook, but if my posts look anything like “lkjhbdijn dhj& o—?lkjhnba”, you’ll probably be correct in thinking that I have a little bit of sleep deprivation!

Until next time.

Annie   xoxo

 

This post is dedicated to all the night owls.  No offence guys, but hopefully we won’t be joining you!

p.s. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, for the AMAZING response to our last post “Did I just hear that?”.  I’m totally overwhelmed ❤

 

*Hello, lovely friends across the globe!  ‘Stars in their eyes’ was a British TV talent programme, where members of the general public dressed up and impersonated showbiz stars – like Elvis or Madonna or Liberace et al.  Apparently it was incredibly popular.  I wasn’t too keen, tbh!

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2 Responses to Goodnight Sweetheart

  1. Hi Annie, May everyone sleep in their own bed and live happily ever after – my wish for the three of you. Congratulations! A pinch of fairy dust, ready set, GO!

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