channelling my inner Johnny Depp by sitting down to write in a tatty dressinggown the moment the baby goes to sleep.

the phone rings: the childcare centre. do I want to bring him in today?

no. It's tempting. I have a redraft to do. but I also have a babysitter tomorrow, and I intend to make this work, to learn to somehow write around the baby. that way lies madness, I know. but here goes...