Maybe I should retitle the blog "The Unbelievable Perversity of Children" as I sense we've got a recurring theme going... You know, for the past who knows how long, the morning routine has been for me to stumble out of bed around 6.30, have a shower, get dressed, then spend 10-15 minutes attempting to drag the children awake & get them started. It's not just a matter of shouting "time to wake up" at them, it frequently involved physically removing them from bed and threats of sticking them under the cold shower (well, for Sarah, anyway - that girl could sleep for England, I'll tell you). And usually, we managed to get downstairs to eat breakfast by quarter past 7, so that was alright. So this morning - Sunday - I wake up to Sarah's voice in the hallway saying "Come on Olivia, let's go see Mummy & Daddy". It was 6.25. Did I mention it's Sunday?

Sarah's gone back to sleep, but once Olivia is awake, well, that's it - and I'm a bit like that, too, so we've let Daddy have a bit more kip and we're downstairs. But at least the kids' telly is good Sunday morning. Olivia will be thrilled, as Barney is on at 7.30 - they don't normally get to watch it, as I can bear to be in the same room as it, but if it will keep her occupied while I have a cup of tea and do stuff, she's welcome to it, as long as she doesn't get in the habit of waking up early Sunday mornings for it. Luckily, I think she's too young to understand the concept of time, so we're probably ok there.

The up-side to being awake this early (besides a much faster net connection) is that I'll get everything I needed to get done for the day done by about 10am - not normally compensation for sleeping "in" to at least 8, of course. But you can't have everything - as the man says, Where would you put it?