Parenting 24/7

2.30am

The littlest one wakes up, again, looking for more milk. I feed him, wind him and change him and ambitiously place him back in the moses basket, hoping he'll go back to sleep.

He doesn't.

3am, 3.30am, 4am,

He is still awake, occasionally screaming, occasionally whimpering.

I cuddle him, rock him, whisper to him, shhhhh him, try and get him to sleep lying on me, beside me, away from me.

Nothing. He still won't sleep.

At 4.30am I change his nappy again and accept that I am awake and hungry. I make a cup of tea and a piece of toast.

5am, the birds are in full song. The sky is as bright as mid day. The littlest one looks tired, but unable to get to sleep.

I'm aware that he needs to sleep (as do I, but that will have to wait), but that he won't get to sleep back in his or my bed. I am also aware that if he keeps screaming, what with the daylight streaming in and the bird song outside the other two are likely to waken. I am also aware that the middle one has a party to go to today and I haven't got a present for the birthday boy yet and once the others wake up there will be not much time to do so.

And those are the reasons why I ended up in Tesco at 5.45 on a Sunday morning.

The littlest one slept from the minute we left the house, all the way along the deserted road, right around the store and back again, waking up only as I bumped the pram back up the step and into the house.

Still, by the time we were home the others were waking and I happily handed responsibility for all three over to my lovely husband, along with the bag of pastries picked up from the all night bakery.

Parenting. No-one ever claimed it wasn't a 24/7 job.