Recently by Laura Yates

I didn't think he'd notice - just a little bit of carrot, disguised in a spoon of fruit pudding.

The Kid had shown no interest in his dinner, mashed tatoe, burgers and carrots. He miraculously recovered his appetite when I opened a pot of apple and plum dessert though.

The left over plate of food was still on the table, so I thought, why not? I got a little bit of carrot and a big spoon of the fruity goo, and popped it in. I doubted he'd realise; what a great way of getting some extra vitamins down him!

I feel I need to apologise to fellow environmentally friendly people. Yesterday I drove around for the best part of an hour in an effort to get a poorly The Kid off to sleep.

It doesn't matter how economically you drive or how environmentally friendly the car, driving round for ages in an attempt to soothe a child makes you very un-green.

And so it was that I found myself driving round Tesco's car park in the dark, in the lashing down rain, complete with The Boy and a sick Kid.

All I wanted to do was park close to the store, go in, buy Calpol, nappies, baby-wipes and milk.

I circled the block of baby-spaces near the main door. Round and round I went, watching cars pull out and others in front of me nab the spaces. If it had been a normal day I'd have just parked closer to the back but it was really busy, dark, chucking it down and The Kid had a temperature of 38.5. I just wanted a dam space. I have a baby, that's what the spaces are there for.

The worst part about it was two of the people who got a space didn't even have kids!! The drivers were perfectly able bodied, single people who were just too selfish and bone stinking idle to park further away!!

I was shocked to see a lad, no older than eleven, walking a Pit Bull Terrier down my street today.

Why is it, that when we need proper training, a licence and insurance to drive a car, we've got 4 stone of meat eater, hauling kids around on the end of little more than a piece of string?

Carrying a gun carries a minimum sentence because they have the potential to cause severe injury and death, yet a firearm is unlikely to become unstable at the sight of a passing cat, small child or anything else it deems offensive.

It's a disgrace. After the Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand fiasco so many people were up in arms; suspensions, resignations, job losses. A baby loses his life in the most desperate of circumstances and no one, not one single person has lost their job.

The suffering of that poor little baby boy in Haringey has haunted me since I heard about it. It is wicked beyond measure. There are simply no words to describe this.

One of my new favourite things to do on a daily basis is to see what The Kid has decided to chuck out of the cat-flap.

When he has the run of the kitchen for half an hour I open the back door to see all manner or bottles, plastic cups and tubs blowing about outside.

It was all very amusing to start with when it was the odd plastic utensil, but he now makes a point of rifling through any cupboard in reach in an effort to find some new thing to launch out, such as a glass jar or tin of beans.

One day I think he's going to use it to try and escape himself; I shall find his little legs wiggling away just like Poo Bear's when he got stuck halfway through his front door.

The Other Half was just about to cycle off yesterday when he heard a rattle and looked down. The car keys gripped by a little hand were thrust out into the cold air. They were promptly dropped and the little hand disappeared back inside.

Last year we didn't go to a fireworks display. After all, The Kid was only a couple of months old. Who wants to be standing in the freezing cold, waiting round to see the three minutes of fireworks with a tiny baby before waiting in queues of cars, or wandering home in the dark?

Unsurprisingly this miserable attitude earned me an ear bashing from my friends. "You have to take the kids to a display! It's bonfire night!"

Okay, I thought. This year 'for the kids' we decided to make an effort and go watch some fireworks. I can honestly say, hell itself could not have been much worse.

I don't urinate in swimming pools. I don't fart in lifts. I don't smoke in public, so why am I forced to breathe the noxious by-products of 4x4 and other fuel heavy cars?

I'm sick and tired of listening to the drivers of the almighty 4X4 drone on about the cars' safety. Not that I'm saying they're unsafe. I'm sure driving around in nearly three tonnes of metal and being raised above other road users does make them safe - but then so is a Sherman Tank, and you don't see anyone driving one of those down Shirley High Street.

Why do people drive four wheel drive cars around towns anyway? Has no one explained that there is only the slimmest chance of encountering a landslide in down town Solihull? Hills so steep they demand four-wheel traction aren't exactly common either. I'm fed up of seeing the things used for the drive to work or to pick kids up from school. The worst is seeing them in supermarket car parks, taking up baby-spaces, being loaded with reusable bags of organic shopping. (Oh the irony.)

Why won't he keep his shoes on? Why, why, why does The Kid insist on removing his shoes and socks whilst trundling along in the pushchair?

Short of taking him to the local blacksmith to have him shod, there's not a fat lot I can do.

Permanently welding shoes onto a toddler's feet might be taking things a baby-step too far, but it's the only thing that springs to mind as we hurry along to get The Boy to school first thing on a cold autumnal morning.

It's true. Last night, while soaking peacefully away, I was joined by a real Action Man.

And it wasn't only him that got involved with my bathing ritual. I shared my bath with some of the ugliest , hairiest beasties in the world (and I'm not talking about my legs either.) Everyone from Wildmutt to Plantvine graced my bath water. Even Makka Pakka put in an appearance.

Okay. Neither has The Other Half increased his visits to the gym, nor have I started an illicit affair with someone who can only move his eyes to the right or to the left.