4AM

It's 4am in the morning as I glance blearily at my bedside clock. A voice is shouting "Mummy". I wait a little while as George is a sleep talker. The shouts get louder, so reluctantly I climb out of bed and go upstairs. The shouts have changed now to "Ouch, ouch, mummy OUCH!!!!".

When I arrive at his bedside I ask him what's the problem. He tells me that he has a sore eye. I suspect it's just an eyelash, and given the amateur dramatics taking place in front of me, it will be cried out soon. Sure enough, five minutes later I am sitting beside his bed, looking at him. He is looking at me, as I'm holding his hand. Then, "So mummy, how's it going?" he asked. It's one of his favourite questions just now - it makes him feel like he's looking after me while his daddy is away.

"Not that good just now George" was my answer. Well it was 4:10am! I suggested that he switch his musical nightlight on and go back to sleep. He rolled over and that was that. At 5:10am I was still awake. No wonder I'm always tired. If you asked him if he was awake in the night he would tell you he was fast asleep all night.....