no, I really mean it, sleep is totally for wimpoids

Friday afternoon and early evening were the afternoon and evening from hell. Really they were. Little Pip had his jabs (all 8 or so toxic live things jabbed into his poor little pork chop leg and he only cried a little bit because Mummy was holding him so hard he was confused and didn’t know which hurt more which cancelled out the crying) and we had expected that he’d be unwell and cranky that day and the day after.
I could go into detail but on reflection it’s not that interesting, it just cemented my desire for him to go into his cot and what I needed to do to get him there. He did sleep there that night, waking every couple of hours, but it was good to have the bed back.
Saturday we had friends round so it was hectic and I fell asleep on the sofa and he came into bed again.
It’s a step forward as he’d not really slept at all in his cot until these past couple of days.

Sharon took some lovely pics


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