Mr. Waffle is playing a blinder or else he’s putting up a brave front. It’s hard to tell. He had 5 consecutive hours of  sleep last night having stashed the boys in strategic locations about the house so that they wouldn’t wake each other up. I’m not sure that it will be feasible to keep a cot in the kitchen in the medium term, but we can think about that.
Mr. Waffle is much more upset than I am by the fact that our infants continue, at 8 months, to sleep like newborns. I wasn’t quite sure why that was until he said to me “you made a deal with God, didn’t you, they could wake as often as they liked, provided that they didn’t have CMV” and I realised straight away that he was right. In fact, I think I promised never to complain about anything ever again, if I remember rightly. And though I have not, perhaps, held true to that, I think I have become much better at resigning myself to everyday problems that arise. I may have to cede my place on the “whinge for Ireland” team to a new contestant.  Beth knows what I mean.
