It's Sunday night and last night was really hellish. Unfortunately I don't mean a big night on the town, or even too much ice-cream and wine at a bi-annual girl's night in.

I mean the evils of a multiple night-waking five month old and a toddler - seemingly on speed - from the time he wakes at 5.30am til the time he goes to bed, unwillingly, at around 7pm.

So of course tonight I'm hoping to make it an early night to make up for my peppercorn rest the night before. I bid my husband good night at 8.30pm. I'm headed for bed, via a few chores. Just a few little ones.

Firstly, washing. I can't do it during the day at the moment as the weather is bad and my toddler insists on following me out the door, down the path and through every puddle on offer to the laundry room where he fiddles with every knob, funnel and dusty crack.. So I thought I'd leave three loads for tonight. Better stay up and make sure they all get done. Hanging up the washing at 9pm at night by the freezing cold light of the moon is so much easier, don't you think?

Oh, I had better do the dishes. That's the dishes from my son's 5pm meal, my husband's full-fat, full carb meal and my miserly plate of plain pasta and chicken aimed at mysteriously melting my still excess baby fat. Three seperate meals means, hmmm, quite a few dishes.

Quite a bit of planning for each night's work too - better make a list for shopping tomorrow. While I'm fossicking through the cupboards for meal ideas, I feel I should really clear out some of the stuff we don't use.

Oh, and life would be easier if I sorted my recipe book.

While I'm at it, maybe if I get the recycle bags out now, pack them with the nappies and slings and other miscellany I'll need tomorrow it might save time.

Speaking of recycling, it's rubbish night. Time to cart the bins to the street, and while i'm there, clear out the car in the driveway which is full of child-related detritus.

Shite! The car's rego and warrant are due. Better add those two tasks to my bill payment schedule which usually gets sorted on Sunday night. Luckily it can be done online. And so can bulk buying nappies, bill payments, general bank business and checking out who - if anyone - is reading my blog!

While I'm online, I may as well send out on the minutes of the last Plunket Committee meeting I attended, which should have gone out about three weeks ago. I'm muttering now. Why did I agree to secretary duties!?

Rifling through my Plunket notes I see a note about overdue library books and feel compelled to charge through the house gathering said books before I completely forget. There's one at the breastfeeding station, one next to the bath, one in the playroom and several under the bed. Hardly any of them have been read. Well really, who's got time for Updike and Amis when Supernanny and Toddler Taming are practically required reading?

I have time to flick through these all-important manuals when my daughter wakes for her feed at 11pm. Ahh, the night feed. The "dream"feed. Indeed, I am dreaming now - dreaming of going to bed and, well, dreaming. Finally at 11.30 my daughter takes her last slurps and then it's off to sleep before her 2am nightly alarm clock sounds.

After shower and teeth it's great to be able to drop into bed around midnight.

I'm so glad I chose to go to bed early tonight!!

Dita De Boni

Pictured above: A clothes line fill of white garments. (Photo / Claire De Barr, Bay of Plenty Times)