Peeling open my eyes, I could hear rustling coming from downstairs.
My then 11-week-old son Mannix had kept me awake all night, so my husband Vinnie, now 44, had let me sleep in.
Usually, I’d be up and about, helping with the routine of getting our daughter Estlin, three, ready for nursery in the morning.
Lying in bed a little longer on that day back in March 2017, I soon took Mannix downstairs.
‘Are you tired today?’ I cooed, making some coffee.
After Vinnie had taken Estlin to nursery, I planned for a relaxing day with Mannix.
With a toddler and newborn, it was a rare occurrence for sure.
Not only would Mannix keep us up at night, but Estlin kept us on our toes, too.
Just weeks away from her fourth birthday, she was already such a confident and independent little girl.
Refusing to wear trousers, she insisted
