Monday night, silent night, alles schläft...

I don't understand the point of weekends. I'm supposed to feel rested and refreshed, instead all I want is to hit the pillow. And sleep. But no, I really should finish the book (reading, not writing) or it'll drive me mad.

After a stint of going to bed by herself and rewarded well for that too, Hanna returned to her old habit with a vengeance. I now have to sit on her bed and wait for her to fall asleep. Every night, not even taking turns with Mr H. We take turns in bed-time reading, so logically should do sitting shifts too. Oh well, another 13 years and we'll be able to send her off to study somewhere far far away.