Sometimes not everything is plain sailing.
I am tired, Daddy is tired, Lily is exhausting. Sleep seems a far off fairytale. The house is a shit-tip. I am fed up of walking a million times round the block begging her to sleep, of constantly washing bibs and nappies and babygros, of making up bottles and pureeing feeds, of changing her and wiping up vomit, of rocking and cooing and singing lullabies, of trying to be so goddamn cheery all of the time, of inventing new ways to make a cross child laugh, of lying awake listening for sounds in the nighttime, of trying to be the perfect parent, of never really feeling like me anymore and never even having the time to worry about it.