Silent night? No, not really.

The above image is an arial view of a road that runs through the rugged moorland that borders my village. The views from this road are probably very dramatic. The bleak beauty of a violently rolling sea of heather, broken only by occasional crests of crumbling dry stone walls and the odd sheep. It probably looks breathtaking, but I wouldn’t know because I’ve only ever driven along it at night.

This is my Plan D road, my desperate measures road, my “for the love god will you go to bloody sleep” road. This is the place I head to at 3am in the morning after all the bottles, lullabies, back patting and blunt blows to the head have failed. I bundle whichever insomniac ratbag is causing us grief into the back of the car and drive until they finally nod off.

Last night there was not one but two dastardly offenders. Amy came into our room at around 2am and proceeded to attempt to engage our comatose brains in cheerful conversation. Then half an hour later Evan woke up and decided that he would spend the next hour or so headbutting myself and Kerry in turn in some sort of belief that it would enable him to get more comfy. It didn’t.

So at 4am on a Sunday morning I found myself driving both kids up and down a lonely moorland road listening to Amy’s Bear in the Big Blue House CD and trying to remember why I wanted kids in the first place. Evan dropped off almost immediately but Amy must have been secretly popping pro plus as she steadfastly refused to sleep. After around an hour and a half of being in the car I thought she had finally gone to sleep so made my way home, only to hear her suddenly burst into raucous song as soon as I drove up the drive.

In fact Amy didn’t actually go to sleep until 10:30, and even then it was under heavy protest. I managed to grab 40 winks on the sofa as she watched TV but she woke me up every advertisement break in order to point out which toys she wanted for Christmas, so it was hardly restful.

If it happens again tonight I’m coming round to sleep at your house, just thought I’d warn you.

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2. Lunar tricks
3. Unsettled nights
4. I told you I was ill
5. Living up to all stereotypes about hapless fathers