I wish I was in bed

I have been boasting how good little bear is at sleeping - how silly of me!

Last night, well, early this morning, little bear had kicked off his duvet and was COLD. So first of all there was a cuddle and a fuss and a tucking up. Dear heart very kindly got a new bottle for him.

Little bear didn't want THAT bottle - it was too heavy. As it was the normal weight I had no idea. Then he wanted more books in his bed - but not that one - it had to go in the box and that one had to go on the floor next to it. Then he had to have new pyjama trousers, but not those. And not those. And he was hungry. My comment that he should try the bottle was not sympathetically received. And he needed a nappy change (he did!). And he needed 'medsin' on his sore finger - witch hazel gets dabbed on all sorts here.

The first half hour of cuddling and tucking was fine, but the second half hour of fussing because he was tired and fed up was not fun. I didn't mind in one way, I was certainly not wasting time shouting at him, but at least four times in half an hour I crawled back into my lovely, warm, comforting bed only to be dragged out by a plaintive, 'Mummy...'

And THAT bottle was drained to the last drip.