Me: Gro Clocks are shit! They do nothing! They are useless. WORSE than useless. They fill you with false hope; as that smug little sun winks at you, you think maybe, just maybe tonight will be the night! It will sink in and they’ll Stay. In. Bed. But they inevitably don’t and you’re left full of woe and a tiredness no amount of coffee can fix.
Also me: Do you think it’s worth trying the Gro Clock again?!
Desperation and sleep deprivation can do funny things to a parent, and investing all your hopes and dreams in a little plastic electrical device claiming to be a ‘toddler sleep trainer’ is one of those things.
Anyway, it was decided (by me, after a prosecco cocktail with dinner) that the Gro Clock would be moved from my eldest’s bedroom – where she rarely wakes up much before the sun comes up anyway, good girl that she is – into the small one’s.
He’s been in there for a few months now, away from the blue glare of the clock he so thoroughly ignored for the last year and a half.
Maybe… Just maybe?! The Gro Clock might work this time?
If you wake up and the clock is still blue, you stay in bed, OK? Or if you want to get out of bed and get a book and read it in your room, that’s OK.
Or play with some toys? Look, here are a load of non-noisy toys you can play with. Tomorrow, not now. Put them down. OK, bad idea.
But if you stay in bed until the sun comes up, you can, ummm… come in and jump on mummy and daddy’s bed!
That night, we stayed up way too late in only the way that really tired parents desperately trying to snatch back a little ‘me time’ can do.
We watched a film (Kingsman: The Golden Circle. It was enjoyable, but on balance I preferred the first one I think) followed by one and a half episodes of The Marvellous Mrs Maisel (really good, definitely recommend) and crawled into bed around midnight.
Way too late.
The next thing I knew, it was ten to seven and my husband had got up to use the loo.
This is weird, I thought.
He fell back to sleep, but I couldn’t. The silence was eerie and our curtains are really crap at keeping the light out; we definitely should have gone for blackouts.
I looked at my phone. We don’t yet have a clock in the bedroom. We moved our old one in there but it had a weird buzzing sound that started to drive me slightly mad so I got rid. I won’t lie, my phone is the first thing I go for anyway.
After 5 minutes of checking my overnight emails (spam) and tweets (rubbish) I heard a crash and a slamming of doors and in burst my smallest like a small, violent tornado.
MUMMY! The orange sun has come up! I can bounce on your bed!
Hurrah! THE GRO CLOCK HAS ONLY BLOODY WORKED!
It took a year and a half but it worked! It’s a success!
Fast forward to day two and it’s 6.08am.
I can hear singing.
That’s odd, I think. No one should be singing at 6.08am.
It’s the big one. Apparently that bloody clock is the only thing keeping her in bed in the morning; I always thought she was asleep.
Looks like it’s time to buy another Gro Clock. Bastard thing.