They’re back. Liladays. They went away due to staff issues, but they’re now resolved so we’re back on track. And the ‘full thing’. Wednesday night sleepover running seamlessly into Liladay. Brilliant. Though ‘sleepover’ implies, errrr, ‘sleeping’ and I don’t wish to convey the image of… of… of sleep. Sleepover is what it should be. Lila has different definitions. Because in the ‘old days’ (she’s now 22 months old) Lila went to sleep at 7 and woke up at 6 and that was it. The dream. Which turned into a nightmare a few months ago and we don’t know why. But now she’s up once, twice, thrice, in the night and then, best of all, official ‘morning’ starts, well today, at 5.15. Last week was a bit earlier. So today counts as a ‘lay in’. Though doesn’t feel like it. Unsurprisingly.

And I try to explain to her. About diurnal rhythms and sleep cycles and quote to her from studies of sleep depravation in Abu Graib and Guantanamo Bay. I draw her graphs, bar charts, sine curves. Then she draws them. In fact that’s pretty much all she draws; graphs without any coordinates. In pink and blue AND purple. Bit of green. All over the newspaper, the walls…

But the fact of the matter is that she is so unrelentingly adorable at any time other than 1, 3, 5 in the morning, that once you see that smiling little face, its over. Ya had me at ‘smile’. The rest I’ll get over. In the fullness of time. Then she gets ‘busy’. And it doesn’t stop. Ever.

I think she woke up this morning because she was concerned about the new group of resignees in Westminster. The 3 Tory MPs who have abandoned the seemingly sinking ship (rhymes with ‘stinking shit’) of the government benches to sit as newdependents with Chukka and Lucinda et al. With no party, no backers (that we know of) and no hope of any immediate influence in the world. But they’re basically The Remain Party. That’s their collective common ground, if not their stated reason for desertion. And ya know what; its about time we had one of those. Because arguing Brexit all of every day for almost 2 years has gotten us precisely nowhere. So we might as well stay. (Run and hide immediately. London’s safe).

Happy exhausting Thursday

A xxxx