THE COMPETITIVE LIE-IN

Site Default - 27 Aug 15

I rarely argue with my husband. But there’s one thing guaranteed to bring out the ugly side in both of us: the weekend lie-in.

We bicker over who gets Saturday (less dozing because it’s up and out by 9.30 for swimming with the boys) and who gets Sunday (no early starts, which equals extra snooze time). And we get angry if our lie-in doesn’t go according to plan – ie, if two noisy offspring decide to jump on us mid-nap. Then we squabble endlessly over who had more kip than the other and sulk because it’s not fair that we had less.

As soon as Saturday is on the horizon, the lie-in day is bagged and the rules are set: no little ones pouncing on me, no screaming, no winding the kids up on purpose, no sneaky ‘Go and give Mummy/Daddy a cuddle’ tricks. Just uninterrupted rest and much-needed time spent alone. Oh, and if you peep round the bedroom door to check if I’m awake and see me on my iPad or flicking through a magazine, remember that this is still part of my allocated lie-in. Please just let me have some precious peace.

But lie-ins in our house rarely run smoothly…

Last weekend I got the Sunday slot, which was very jammy since our youngest woke at 5.30, bubbling with 3-year-old energy, adamant that he was getting up because the birds were tweeting. So, in keeping with the lie-in rules, my husband shut the door behind him and carried my chit-chatting son downstairs, leaving me to fall back into one of those deliciously deep sleeps.

Only an hour later though, I was startled into waking by little giggles and excitable shrieks. My sons were standing next to my bed with mischievous grins on their faces and a water gun in each of their hands. Needless to say, I got a soaking. I tried to see the funny side but then noticed my husband hiding on the landing, sniggering. Knowing that he had put them up to it just made me cross. Plus the fact that it was only 6.30 – so I was due at least another hour of sleep – didn’t help.

I spent the rest of the day in a foul mood with my other half, feeling resentful that I hadn’t got to finish the lie-in that I’d spent the whole week craving.

I have to admit, though, that I’m just as bad when my partner’s having extra shut-eye: I’ve been known to turn up the radio just a notch too high, to let the boys play with annoyingly loud toys and to say things like, ‘Only Daddy knows how to fix that tractor’.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell who the children in our family really are…

Site Default

Fiona Pennell lives in the Cotswolds with her husband and their two boys, Jack, 6, and Otto, 4. A former YOU magazine sub-editor, Fiona now spends her days being trampled on, going on slug hunts and dreaming of lie-ins. (Twitter: @fiona_pennell)

View profile for posts, events and more info