Tricky one, this. And I'm in need of advice myself.
We've had two disturbed nights due to our youngest having yet another cold and spending the nights coughing. In the end it took a dose of Karvol on her sheets (it is a decongestant capsule that you empty onto a hanky or bedding and it produces a vapour that essentially stops a runny nose in its tracks) to stop the coughing caused by her runny nose and a dose of Calcough to sooth her throat. But these treatments took some time to take effect during which I had to lie on the floor by her bed, holding her hand, in order to comfort her.
She's still in a cot bed (which is why I could reach!), but lying on the floor next to her, even if it is carpeted, isn't particularly comfortable. Not only do I end up with a bruised hip, but I also end up dosing off and waking up half an hour later freezing cold. Even with the balmy weather we've had in the UK this week, lying on the floor with just a dressing gown on isn't a good idea.
So I stagger back to bed, by which time it's 4:45am, and try and go back to sleep again. The alarm goes off at 6am as usual and of course I'm so so so warm and comfortable that the last thing I want to do is get up. Half an hour's worth of snoozing later, I end up rushing about trying to get myself and two children ready and out of the door by 7.30am.
Irony was the name of the game - because my daughter was, of course, now sleeping peacefully! I had to lift her out of bed, wrap her in a blanket, and put her straight in the car. No breakfast together today.
It doesn't take a genius to realise that lack of sleep and no time to get ready does not equal good looking. Is there a cure for bloodshot eyes? Does yawning go hand in hand with sophisticated professionalism? Maybe not.
Running out of mascara didn't help.
Wearing trousers that were just too short for the height of heel I chose today also didn't help. (I have a thing about trousers being the right length. Just above the floor: regardless of heel size.) I hadn't prepared the outfit the night before you see. Ironically.
Having absolutely no clean, ironed clothes that are mine also didn't help.
I'm beginning to wish I had a 'fancy' head to simply pick up and pop on, Worzel Gummidge style.
Hmmmm. Maybe a wig is the first step?