Do you think looking after your toddler is hard work? Is chasing after this small person in your life starting to wear you down? Ever searched for something to make life seem that little bit easier?

I have a simple, yet brilliant solution. If you think one toddler is difficult, try looking after two.

This is how I spent my day off last week. How much more difficult could one extra pair of legs be? I'd thought as I volunteered to babysit Lucy Henman-Hill's son, J Man.

I planned to take both boys to play group, have lunch with my friend Lisa (mom of 1 + 1 on the way), then home till 5.30 when J Man got collected.

I went to playgroup and stood outside door to community centre wondering how in the name of God I was going to get the tank of a twin pushchair through the doors. After some random passer-by took pity on me, and helped me hold one of the double doors, I got into the main hall and unleashed the two bags of energy from their safety harnesses.

There I was, happily working away when The Norman appeared at the photocopier behind my desk.

I can't remember how the conversation started. First we were discussing the fact that all the photocopiers seem to be on a go slow, then we were talking about women who've recently gone on maternity leave.

Suddenly, she grinned at me. "And have you got anything you want to share, eh?" And she topped the loaded question off with a wink.

"Not again!" I said in dismay, my hand instinctively going to cover the gut I was now acutely aware of. This is the second time someone has assumed I was pregnant in nearly as many months.

No. Of course they don't dream. And even if they did 'dream', all the dreams would consist of would be ambiguous colours, patterns and shapes, with perhaps the odd Telly Tubby thrown in for good measure.

There certainly would be no complex thought processes; no sequences of imagined events or plot-lines. I doubt The Kid is old enough to have a well ordered conscious thought, let alone continuous streams of unconscious imaginings that rise to the surface of his mind as he sleeps.

He certainly wouldn't create a 'frightening' scenario in his mind, not least because I've never actually known him to be frightened when he's awake.

That was until 3am this morning. I was awoken by a very sudden, shrill, shriek of terror eminating from the little bedroom.

I should have known that asking The Other Half to purchase some feminine hygiene products while he was at the shop, wouldn't be as straight-forward as I imagined.

I'd given him guidance on what to get: purple pack that may well have a picture of a moon on it and perhaps some blue drops in the corner.

It was the gleeful look on his face as he triumphantly plonked down on the footstool, the thing he'd just spent 30 minutes looking at in Sainsbury's that made me stifle my initial reaction, which would have been along the lines of: "What the bleedin' 'ell d'you call these?!"

Is it me, or is clubbing just not what it used to be? Give me a choice of trying to get a taxi at 3am whilst fighting through swathes of people who, about 6 months ago were below the age of consent , or being safe and warm in my bed, I know where I'd rather be. Has clubbing itself changed beyond all recognition, or did I just get old?

Yup - when people ask me if I want to go to one of Broad Street's faceless bars to listen to music so new I've never heard it before I promptly make my excuses. Then I heard that Stoodi Bakers is returning for just one night. It's at the old Stoodi's building (now Miskas) on Sunday the 3rd of May. I have to say I'm sorely tempted.

I know. I'm neurotic. I'm being irrational. At least that's what people tell me when I share with them that this whole swine flu business is scaring the pants off me. They say it's just a lot of scaremongering by the media and those companies with a vested interested in selling antibacterial products.

Check out this website for beautiful cards to congratulate friends and family on new arrivals! Go to www.deffersdesignsco.com

Wonder if there will be ones for Christenings and 1st birthdays? I'll keep you posted!

Last week I experienced both appalling, and brilliant treatment by our local NHS - all in less than 24 hours.

Friday afternoon, The Kid suddenly became very upset. He was howling and totally inconsolable; he wouldn't sit in his chair, be picked up and he certainly wouldn't be put down. The most we could do is coax him into eating some spaghetti hoops while one of us held him and the other fed, before he fell asleep.

About an hour later, he woke up worse than before. We took his nappy off and he had a very red bum, and a swelling on the left hand side of his groin.

Of course I panicked, thinking he'd got a hernia, or his testicle had got stuck (well I don't know, I'm a girl and know nothing of testicles and where they go). Anyway, got an emergency appointment at the docs and whizzed him down there.

Went to see the gorgeous Monica on Saturday. I'd forgotten so much about the newborn experience - they're so EASY to look after!

I had Wednesday planned down to the letter. The car was going in to be fixed and I had no intention of paying thirty odd quid for a courtesy vehicle so was going to be stuck at home. I'd arranged a babysitter for The Kid and was going to use the time that I was marooned in my house to do all the house and garden work that I'd been putting off.