On Monday, Phil, Michael and I are heading off to stay with Phil's mum in Newcastle for a week. We're going on the overnight ferry to Hull and are stopping off at Harrogate on the way up there. I spent 8 years of my childhood in Harrogate and haven't seen it since I was 12. I have really been looking forward to this trip for months but in the last week I have begun to dread it. The reason is that Michael's molars are coming through. He has had a high fever twice in the last fortnight and getting him to sleep at night is a real battle. He'll wake every hour, on the hour in distress. Since my mother-in-law's downstairs neighbour can hear it if she has a fan whirring in her bedroom, I don't think she is going to be dramatically impressed with my son's lung capacity and stubborn streak. We're going to have to share a room with Michael also, which is something that we haven't done since he was eight months old. He is a very light sleeper and would wake at a mouse's fart. Michael's teeth seem to make a habit of ruining visits with his Gran. When she came out to visit us at Christmas, Michael starting teething with his first tooth.
I've been up the stairs to Michael 5 times in the last 4 hours and I desperately need to spend Sunday doing last-minute organising and packing. I need sleep!