Things that make me a bit tetchy part 1

This could be a very rich seam of blog fodder as I am only a Per Una cardie away from proper grumpy old womanhood. I expect I'll get my badge after Christmas. You don't need a middle aged woman alert/rantie auntie warning do you? Proceed then, dearest readers to the next paragraph, at your own middle aged pace.

This is a refrain really, as I expect I have blogged upon this topic several times before but as, like your good auntie, you are getting on a bit and occasionally (okay, all the time, in my case) forget, I shall revisit this particular topic.

My 2 younger children cannot get up in the morning. I am a human alarm clock in a middle aged mummy form. My children have numerous devices all of which can wake me from 3 doors away but do not make a dent in their teenage slumber. Every morning I hear their alarm, get up, knock politely on each door and tell them it's time to get up. The Beautiful Son will actually get up then, this is a huge improvement on before.
I will go off and do what I please, sometimes I go back to bed, sometimes I make coffee, sometimes I go and log on and start work. The Beautiful Baby Daughter, however, is another story, she has been eaten by a very grumpy and hard done by creature. The Beautiful Baby Daughter was no slouch in the grumpy department herself but the ante has been upped. This auntie is displeased, mightily.

Whatever I am doing, I have to back at 5 minute intervals to reawaken Sleeping Beauty, and every 5 minutes, I am thanked ever so politely for continuing to ensure that she isn't put back on report for being late. Not.

If I don't go back at 5 minute intervals, she doesn't get up, she gets put on report, the school get cross with her, she gets cross with me and then the school get cross with me too, as sometimes I have to work outside of the house and I can't stand there at 5 minute intervals until she gets up. I expect if I didn't, she would remain there forever, a Miss Haversham type figure in owl pyjamas with last night's mascara smeared all over.

So sometimes, I'm in a hurry so I will say politely "C'mon Luce, get up, I can't hear you moving" to which she will thrash her arms and legs around the bed. But that doesn't fool me, oh no siree Bob, I have been a waking up Mummy for a very long time. I don't go into her room as the level of squalor/chaos/health hazards scare me so I remain very firmly on the clean side. We continue this at 5 minute intervals until she actually manages to get out of her pit, sorry typo, bed.

I have now added a festive twist, I now sing "Deck the Halls" with the full accompaniment of fa la lah's. I then go on to my repetoire of Christmas songs, I have many, I used to teach 4 year olds. Today I got to "When Santa got stuck up the chimney"

I expect Childline will be getting an official complaint about me soon because she wasn't very happy with me this morning. My favourite bit was "... and you're not even singing nicely to me, that was just shouty and mean"