The obligatory sleeping cat photo

When my children were babies, I really gained an understanding of what the word “tired” means. After 3-4 nights of broken sleep, I lost physical coordination, my brain would wander off mid-sentence, and I would find myself staring into the middle distance – a lot.

My older daughter had colic which, I recall our paediatrician cheerfully telling us, “Never killed anyone.” [Little did he realise how close that jocular remark came to killing him …] Consequently, we had a lot of late nights trying to settle her and waiting for that last magical bit of wind to pass. I’m the night-bird in the house, so for the most part, I would handle the last feed of the evening and the loooong wind-down to sleep. But every few nights, I needed to s-l-e-e-p, because without it, I simply couldn’t function. We were able to develop a rota that meant that both of us were merely knackered, rather than an outright danger to those around us.

There’s a reason why sleep deprivation is forbidden by the Geneva Conventions. A bit of a back-and-forth on the topic and how it relates to your working life here:


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