This may or may not be a photo of me.

I certainly feel exhaust-piped enough that I may look like this. On closer inspection though, her eyes aren’t actually hanging out of her head. Mine, on the other hand …

I finally face planted the pillow about 11 last night, when utter exhaustion and my headache that won’t go away finally put a stop to me. Seven blissful hours of sleep ahead of me. Or a coma. Either or.

Wait? What’s that noise? It can not possibly be alarm time yet. It’s not? It’s only 3am? Oh good. But why won’t that noise stop?

Bubba.

My sleep through the night bubba. Awake and screaming. At 3am. Oh no.

During the following 90 minutes we had cuddles, a nappy change, not-sleeping in mumma’s bed, patting the fuzzy loves (who were also not-sleeping on mumma’s bed at this point), and – finally – a bottle* then back to sleep.

I tried to look at the up side. I even giggled a couple of times. After all, who else was being reminded right at that moment how much your little family need love you?

Even if it was 3am!

*Bubba had the bottle, not me – although I may have been tempted!