THE BABY is going through a ‘sleep regression’ apparently.

This is a nice, neat term used by baby experts for what is actually The Most Horrendous Thing That Has Ever Happened.

Forget waterboarding or electric shocks - sleep deprivation must be the worst form of torture ever inflicted, and I know this from personal experience.

As far as I can ascertain, this ‘little development’, as my irritatingly upbeat health visitor refers to it, basically means the baby has stopped wanting zeds and wants to make damn sure nobody else in the house gets any either.

Smithy now goes to work with matchsticks propping open his eyes while I’ve gone through several tubes of foundation trying desperately to look a little less like the undead.

(Actually a major low point was spotting large smudges of mascara under my eyes only to realise, after attempting to wash them off, that they were actually just very dark bags.) I wish I knew what had caused this sudden nocturnal activity, but I’m at a loss.

For weeks my daughter slept like a champ and then three weeks ago she simply decided that being well-rested just wasn’t for her.

At this point I turned to my trusty friend Google.

The first thing I was told is that a bedtime routine is absolutely essential.

The second thing I learned is that nobody should inflict a routine upon a baby.

Apparently babies shouldn’t get over-warm. They also shouldn’t, under any circumstances, get too cold.

In the night if a baby wakes it should be cuddled and then encouraged to self-settle.

Except, said someone else, they’ll be emotionally damaged and in therapy until they’re 20 if they’re not fed, sung to and rocked until they’ve fallen completely back to sleep.

Basically nobody knows - least of all me.

And I’m assuming from Smithy’s standard response (lifting his head from his cornflakes, yawning and muttering something vaguely sympathetic) that he’s also none the wiser.

So there’s nothing for it: it’s time to think outside the box.

Is it possible to get espresso on a drip, do you think?