The only person who controls her crying is Isobel.

Last night I think I did an exercise in 'Controlled crying' But actually I'm not sure how in control I actually was, it certainly wasn't planned.

Isobel went to bed awake, was heard chatting to her bed friends a little and then went quiet - a point at which I can normally be pretty sure she is asleep.

Then she cried. Full scale I'm-in-immediate-peril-crying. So I ran up the stairs, burst in her room, my mummy cape flapping over my shoulder ready to rescue my little damsel in distress.

She smiled at me. Yes, she was lying on her back, she looked up at me and instantly smiled!

Ahh, she missed me.

I kissed her goodnight, again, and went back downstairs.

After a quiet moment or two, full scale crying, AGAIN. This time I waited five minutes; a very looong five minutes of me imagining her tangled in the cot bars or being strangled by her sleeping bag. (I'm sure the images got worse the more my wine evaporated.)

After five minutes, I ran up to her room thinking this just isn't like her AT ALL. Once again, she just smiled and I'm sure she even giggled a bit.

I kissed her goodnight, told her Mummy and Daddy love her very much, and I went back downstairs AGAIN.

She howled and wailed, but this time I was calmer and vowed to wait ten minutes.

By six she was asleep.

Not that my daughter is a wilful drama queen; no NOT AT ALL.

(Yes, she was fine, a peek confirmed she was asleep on her tummy, on the far side of the cot, holding flat bunny. Later, as she has mastered bi-directional rolling, she was back on her back still holding onto bunny.)