The littlest is teething, or hungry, or cold, or craving attention. Honestly I don't know what it is but he was up at 11.20pm (after I got to sleep before 11 for once!!), 2.30, 4.10 and 6.45am. On top of that I was up at 5am dealing with my still infected foot and disturbed at 6.30 by my lovely husband telling me he was leaving for a day in the capital.

Thank goodness then that my dad was still here (on account of me finding a gash in the side of one of his car tyres and convincing him he shouldn't or actually couldn't drive home last night with it in that state) and could walk the boys up to school while I came to and made my peace with the night owl.

I spent the rest of the morning back down the basement sorting stuff out while my dad looked after the littlest. It was all going well until I lifted a bag to discover an enormous spider staring back at me from it's throne on top of a pile of bright white sheets. That put paid to the basement work there and then.

We had a lovely lunch at the kilted frog and then my dad headed home (in a car with four new tyres fitted) and I went and picked up the school boys and took them to their swimming classes.

Tonight, as all the boys sleep I have been trying to get to bed early myself. I even told the older two that I was going to get into my pj's at the same time as them, and yet here I am now nearly three hours later still faffing about having tidied and faffed and cleaned and faffed and baked and faffed.

Now though. Bed...