I have been awake since 5am when the youngest woke and started crying. I had no idea why, and neither did she - as soon as I walked in the bedroom door she was quiet again. There were tears on her cheeks, but apparently no real drama worth crying about. Go figure. After a cuddle, a kiss and “go to sleep”, peace reigned once more.
I didn’t get back to sleep properly though. It’s funny - I have always been in awe of our friends who have children - their ability to hear their children’s cry through walls and doors always mystified me. I wondered if we might ever develop that with adopted children - if it was a maternal / paternal thing or not - apparently we have.
I eventually came downstairs at about 6:30, and made a cup of tea. A few emails later, and the sound of little feet and loudly whispered conversation could be heard from upstairs. Rather than continue to enforce the foster carer’s regime of not letting the children downstairs until you are ready, I just let them go this morning. They got to eat breakfast and watch cartoons while wiping the sleep from their eyes - just like Dad.
It’s now approaching 9 oclock, and we are all kicking around the house. I will shortly be making packed lunches - we are off to the farm again today… the lambs should have been born by now.