Meaning, whenever I put him down for a nap, he screams and wails and spins around in his cot so expertly it's clear he was some kind of circus performer or synchronized swimmer in his previous life.

It's not like I put him down when he's raring to go and not at all tired. I wait for the signs - the eye rubbing, hair pulling, staring, yawning, and once I see one or all of those, I declare it nap time.

But as soon as I make moves to put him down (be it the cot, car seat, pushchair, bouncer), stand back, because Sweet Angel Milo has left the building, and Demon Milo has set up camp.

And my, hasn't life changed since then! But I wouldn't change it for the world.

It's also exactly four months since Milo made his wriggling and squealing entrance.

To celebrate his 'four month birthday', we tried him out in the door bouncer.

To be fair, he's still a bit little and was more bewildered than anything else!

I used to pride myself on being able to remember everything, without having to write stuff down or leave myself reminders.

Not anymore.

Now, I remember stuff, but stuff that has literally no bearing on my life. My brain is filled to the brim with completely useless rubbish.

So I figured I had all my bases covered, there would be very few surprises in store for me during pregnancy, labour and after I had the baby.

Well, suffice it to say, the books suck, my friends are all liars and my sister is no longer on my Christmas card list.

Milo's now nearly 17 weeks, and after spending the majority of his life waking just twice a night (and that's twice more than I'd like) he's now up to around five times a night.

Apparently, on typing my troubles into Google, he's going through a 'four-month sleep regression'.

At approximately sixteen weeks of age, most babies are gearing up for an enormous leap that will transform them from a rubber chicken into the smiling, giggling baby we see on TV. The flip side of this miraculous transformation is a few weeks of lousy sleep for everyone.

And while it's exhausting to have Milo on a nap strike and up at all hours of the night, the good news is that it won't last forever. Hopefully. Though it could be for another couple of months, by which time I'll be truly zombified.

You are exhausting.
You are cranky.
You're teething.
Lately, you prefer feeding every 30 minutes between 3am and 6am.

At the beginning, I got it. I had so much pride in telling people he was three weeks... six weeks... eight weeks!

After 12 it started to get blurry.

So I resorted to telling people he was three months. It was easier for them to grasp, and know each time I flick over the calendar, I just up the month.

Then today, as I sifted through all of his clothes, it became apparent that it was time for wardrobe clean out round two.

Half of the things hanging up he couldn't fit his left thigh into anymore.

The removal of tiny clothes is always the hardest when it comes to facing the inevitable growing up. Just as quickly as the newborn clothes went in to the loft, as have all his 0-3 month outfits.

And at the rate this munchkin is growing, I'm sure it won't be long until the 3-6 month ones join them!

Milo ate his first meal. Well, by meal, I actually mean baby rice.

The verdict? After his initial 'mother, what are you doing?' face, he LOVED it.

So much so, he took matters into his own hands and tried feeding himself. Or, rather, he tried to eat the spoon as well.

Seven weeks in, I relented as it helped Milo to get to sleep and would save me hours of patting, shushing and rocking.

Sixteen weeks in, I regret the whole thing. He'll rarely fall asleep without one, and then sometimes he wakes up, realises it's dropped out, and screams for me to come and put it back in.

Grrrr.

We're now two nights in - and it's great. Yep, now I have further to go for his night feeds (asking for him to sleep through the night is a step too far) but as I can't hear all the whimpers and grunts I can sleep so, so, so much better.

And a happy mummy makes for a happy baby, right?

And so I apologise for the shameless nature of this post. It's purely to show off the munchkin in his two favourite outfits!

Milo makes all kinds of snorts, grunts, strains, whimpers and squeals - in fact, he sounds like a cross between a goat and a goose.

It's so loud that it keeps me awake - despite him being sound asleep, which is mighty annoying.

The noises reach their peak around 4am and continue until I can take no more and wake him up.

I was braced for sleepless nights - just not ones where the baby is still fast on!