Sometimes the best way to end a manic weekend of over-commitment is a bout of gastro.

5.00am – the baby wakes.
5.04am – feeding. Sitting in dark in living room doing so. Hear Oscar stirring.
5.08am – Oscar cries. He takes his night splints off.
5.12am – Felix comes out (he has to be first) but on seeing how dark it is outside says, “it’s too early” and promptly returns to bed. That’s my boy.
5.13am – Oscar relocates to our bed then cries for me.
5.15am – Jasper does the most massive vomit of entire feed, mid-suck, and then some, all over himself, me, the lounge and the floor.
Question that can render you motionless at 5.15am: Do I clean up me, the baby, the lounge or the floor first?
5.16am – Strip off dressing grown, mop up floor with it as I head for bathroom.
5.16.22 – Second vomit all over me and him
5.16.35 – Run bath for baby
5.18 – Tell husband to get up and help
5.20 – The whole family is up.
(I got a shower at about 5.45 – after mopping the floor, cleaning the lounge, putting washing on, getting baby settled)
End of the day:
Jasper – five outfit changes, three baths
Washing – two sets of sheets, four other loads
Me – eating whatever I feel like as I figure the amount of vomit and poo that I’ve dealt with today, it’s only a matter of hours until I am having that affair with the cold bathroom tiles.
And somehow, I actually did work from home.