I just want to restate the terms of the contract. For clarification. And enlightenment.

We look after Lila on Thursdays, herein and forthwith known as ‘Liladay’. (Well why not? They renamed December at some point as the 12th month when the name is a bit of a giveaway that it started life as the 10th.) And to facilitate the process and make things better for all, Liladay officially starts on Wednesday night. Like Jewish holidays all start the night before, thus Liladay starts at sunset on the previous day.

And that works well because ‘Lila sleeps well’. ‘Never wakes up’. And although babies get up a bit earlier than would be perhaps optimum, they do so in such a full-on, brilliant, energetic and happy way that we forgive them for the 5.45 starts, or 6.14 because they’re so sweet and happy. And can’t tell the fucking time.

But then came last week. When Lila was up for an hour at 4am. Ok, she went back to sleep about 5 but that is more difficult for adults to do. But she was ill. Cough, cold, horrible, sympathy, horrid, poor babe.

This Wednesday night she woke up at 11.30. No cold. Not much cough left. Just ‘da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da…’ So we ignored her as her monosyllabic monologue continued.

At Lila’s house they have a Lilacam. And although Lila instructed lawyers about this infringement of her human rights of privacy, her mum can see Lila from wherever she might be, on her phone. And it is 2-way. So mummy can be in the cinema, see Lila is upset and mutter ‘shhhhh, shhhhhh, shhhhhh…’ down her phone, all the way to Lila. Who is comforted and consoled by the familiar voice. Unlike the other movie-goers who are probably really pissed off that someone appears to be shushing Bradley Cooper or Iron Man.

We aren’t like that here. We have a Lilalarm which sends her bedroom moans and murmurs to the kitchen, but its one way. We can’t send comfort back, we have to do it the long way. By sneaking up to her door and shushing from there. Didn’t work. She remained unconvinced. ‘Da-da, da-da, da-da…’ and on it went. Took both of us til way past midnight to get her settled.

So we had a lie-in yesterday morning. Didn’t get up til 6.05. Luxury.

And I felt like shit and exhausted and horrible. Until I went in and saw that little face, all bright and expectant and jabbering away. Which is why God made babies so adorable. Because otherwise you’d kill them.

Happy Friday (not talking about Brexit. Ever again.)

A xxxx