Night Manoeuvres


The day after the night before

One of the least welcome developments in child rearing has left us numbed by physical exhaustion and mental trauma.

I’m not talking Contented Little Baby, Toddler Taming or Raising Boys, but The Sleepover Party, aka Lord of the Flies without the ritual slaughter, although we did consider it at about one thirty am.

When I was a child we used to call it “staying the night” and we didn’t get to do it until we were at secondary school. Now they start pestering for sleepovers from the moment they spot all the accessories you can buy.

To read the rest of this article, see The Bad Mothers Club.

About Beta Mum

Here you can find the ramblings of a trapeze artist turned journalist who ran away from the circus to join the BBC. Cathy "mine's a Kir Royale" Keir then spent thirteen years working in Jersey, Guernsey and Devon, before downgrading to what you see before you. She has contributed articles to The Guardian, The Stage and Television Today, Junior Magazine and both the BBC and Bad Mothers Club websites. She has two children who think women can’t be prime ministers. She blames herself.
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2 Responses to Night Manoeuvres

  1. Cathy says:

    Hello from another Cathy…and thanks for visiting my blog!

    I don’t want to put you off but things get FAR worse once they are teenagers….

  2. spymum says:

    We foolishly allowed our eldest to have a birthday sleepover (six boys!). Mein Gott, the noise, the yelling, the wanton destruction! At 2.30 am I went downstairs and screeched at them to go to sleep (which, thankfully they actually did).

    Needless to say, they were all up at dawn, as fresh as daisies, while hubby and I sleepwalked through the day and went to bed at 9! Never again!

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