I have to admit, I started the Eid half-term in a not-so-bright mood.

“When do I get a holiday?” I harrumphed to DH in a small self-entitled voice, before threatening to check into a hotel to have some ‘me time’ and a lie-in.

These outbursts are nearly always linked to tiredness, I’ve realised. And DH, who’s heard it all before, knows exactly what to do: he takes charge of the children and sits it out.

Then, the cooler Eid weather worked its magic. Suffice to say, Dubai’s blue skies are casting their spell over everyone again, tourists are flocking back in their droves and Eid turned out to be fabulous – almost like being on holiday in Dubai.

DH’s change of scenery – though I’m sure he wished he’d been able to see Noddy at the theatre with us!

But, parenting, it’s never smooth sailing, is it? Just when you think you might actually have cracked it, that it may even be getting a little easier, doesn’t something always happen to keep you on your toes?

Last night, as I settled in on the sofa, I heard the sound of little feet padding down the stairs. BB appeared, with glassy eyes and a vacant stare. Sleepwalking again! We’ve found him draped across various pieces of furniture in the middle of the night a couple of times now.

He’s pretty easy to settle when this happens, but what followed definitely fell into my ‘things I detest about parenting’ category: Projectile Vomit. EVERYWHERE. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, BB then slipped and fell facedown in it. Oh, the shrieks.

Oh, the MISERY.

LB, of course, woke too, and put on an Oscar-worthy performance pretending to be sick (never one to be outdone). And so there I was, wading in vom, trying to coax two boys back to sleep, when my phone pinged.

A text from DH: “Everything OK? I’m in Paris.”

Let’s just say that, after two really rough nights with zero bonhomie, the hotel stay is back on the agenda!