Amelia is waking at 5.30am these mornings, even the mornings after she has spent a fair portion of the evening before banging on her door demanding lullabies, drinks, toilet visits, cuddles etc. 5.30am isn’t so bad now that she can get out of her bed, pad across her room, pull open her door and then come and launch herself (and huge armfuls of soft toys) up onto our bed. Most mornings she snuggles down beside us and lets us have another half an hour while she sucks her thumb and stares at the ceiling. I can almost hear the Toy Story thoughts running through her mind. Some mornings she snuggles down deeper and throws a tiny, chubby arm around my neck, which is some kind of bliss. Except when she says; “Mum… you smell. You smell like… old porridge!”