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.