Of course, you need time to think too. It’s seven weeks since the biscuity one was born (no-one knows how she got this nickname — I can only think that I’m to blame) and, perhaps more fundamental than any of the more obvious shifts, is the way in which time has changed for me. There never seems to be enough of it to get anything done, and yet it pools in unexpected places –an hour’s biscuity nap can seem like an entire day — and loops back on itself through the endless cycle of feeds & changes, so that no one time of the day or night is, in essence, any different from any other. This circularity is something that you have to relax into, to embrace, in order to survive. Once you’ve stopped fighting the apparent speeding of time (‘but it’s only 2 hours since her last feed finished’), its rhythm becomes something soothing, something constant, something to savour. Instead of waiting for it all to end you find the spaces, the time to think. The problem now is catching the thoughts, pinning them to the page and seeing where they might lead. And I’m worried that I’m always going to be too tired to do that.