I dreamt about you last night and I fell out of bed twice

 

Poor Dulcie has suddenly started falling out of bed, once on Monday night and twice last night.  We had already put down a pre-emptive crash mat of sorts (that I had just started thinking we could do without) when she moved to her big-girl bed, but it's still less than ideal.  So far she hasn't hurt herself, but she has been quite distraught.  Thankfully, she's gone straight back off to sleep after a quick cuddle and a tucking-in.  I remember falling out of bed when I was wee and how horrible and disorientating it felt, dozing away quite happily then, all of a sudden, "whoomph" and a horrible where-am-I-and-what's-happened feeling.  The first time Dulcie fell out of bed, Graham refused to believe I had been asleep when it happened because my reactions were so lightning fast.  I leapt over her bed and was by her side almost before she hit the floor.  And this with a painful shoulder and a head that wouldn't turn more than two degrees in any direction! Oh, the power of motherly adrenaline...

 

I'm hoping Dulcie will learn to sleep within her parameters soon.  I don't want to start fencing her in and once she moves into her own room (yet more progress has been made this week - she now has a working radiator!) she'll have two sides that she can fall out of.

 

Oh, well, at least it's a good excuse to listen to The Smiths, a band I love to hear just to remember how much I loved (love) them and to make me feel like a 16-year-old again.  In 1996, I listened to Hatful Of Hollow on repeat while sitting in an armchair in my bedroom reading 1984, and have always been instantly transported back to that slightly eerie Big Brother mindset, full of teenage vigour, hormones and the importance of everything whenever I hear a song from it.  I remember hearing once (on QI!) the speculation that teenagers, the weird creatures that we think they are, are actually humans as they are meant to be and that we just start becoming less than ideal from then on, but now that people live so long past that point, we presume it must be some weird blip.  The feeling I get from listening to music from my teenage years makes me believe that might be right.  As a teenager, it was like I was able to absorb and compute everything from all aspects of life and stuff mattered and was weirdly tangible.  I was also a dick who found everything overwhelming and confusing and lived by a dubious moral code, but that's only because I was a supreme and ultimate human being, honest!  Ha!

 

In a decade's time, I know I'll be wishing falling out of bed was my biggest worry re Dulcie, but I'll try not to start worrying about that now...