I’m cold. I’m tired. I smell of pee. And there’s a spider on the window-ledge.

Oh the joys of parenthood.

Why the hell can’t she wake up before she wets her bed? She has no trouble AFTER. And why does she sneak around my bedroom, scaring me half to death? I can’t get back to sleep after being scared.

After getting back into my then cold bed, it struck me I’m too nice about it. I’m always so damn cheerful about being woken up to change bedclothes and it seems to me, (after she started laughing so loud her sister stirred) she thinks it’s funny. And I don’t. She’s not a baby. She's not even the youngest.

None of my others has had this much trouble learning to wake up. None of my others whine to the point where you think your head might explode, if you don’t allow her yet another drink before bed. And you should see how pissed off and rude she is when you wake her to go to the toilet.

So no more nicey-nice mommy. Nice isn’t working. Her last drink tonight will be at six. And I think I’ll show her where the bed linen is kept too.

My sleeping is screwy enough without her help. This has to stop.

I guess I should go start some chores. After all I’ve got extra washing today, I might as well get an early start.

SHIT. The spiders gone. Where the f*ck did it go? I’m outa here till the spider killer wakes up.