I love my boys when they are asleep. Well, strictly speaking, I suppose I love them all the time, but I love them most when they are asleep. I love the fact that they are completely abandoned, vulnerable, but secure. I love that I can bury my nose in their hair and smell the events of the day; I love their chubby little hands, like open star-fish; I catch their breath and hold it in my lungs; I whisper my love into their ears. But most of all I love that I can go downstairs and open a bottle of wine.

My children don’t sleep. Never have.

To be honest, we haven’t been very good at following advice. ‘Follow a strict routine’ says Gina Ford. ‘Leave them to cry’ says Dr. Ferber. ‘Pick up, put down’ says the Baby Whisperer. ‘Put them in a room far away from you and close the door’ says my mother-in-law. But I can’t. We can’t. We bring them into bed with us, we sleep stiff and tense on the edge of the mattress while they sprawl sideways across the bed. We trek up and down two flights of stairs umpteen times a night making bottles. We go to work bleary-eyed, we stagger through the day, we put shampoo in our coffee and milk on our hair. And when they finally go to sleep we open the wine.

With Godfrey I had great expectations. As far as I knew babies started sleeping through the night at about two months and slept blissfully ever after. It’s only when I started speaking to other parents that the conspiracy became apparent. Children don’t sleep, not consistently, and not easily. 40% of two year-olds are still waking their parents up once or twice a week. They don’t tell you that do they? Not until the baby’s born at any rate. Oh, then the stories start coming. People whose children didn’t sleep for five years, people who crashed into their boss’s Porsche after months of no sleep. I used to lock myself in the bathroom and cry. It didn’t stop us having another baby though.

This time my expectations are more real. I’ve learned that children sleep eventually. That you do survive, and so, against all odds, does your marriage. I’ve got my theories on sleep – more than I have time for here – but for tonight I raise a glass to the fact that my boys are in their beds, asleep and I have a little time to share with you. Oh, and maybe my husband.