My pride and joy

When I woke up on Monday morning, I was genuinely filled with gloom that the weekend was over. I have thoroughly enjoyed being with our little children this last couple of days. I have had great fun being a mum and enjoyed spending a couple of full days with the children. We have had such a laugh. Forgive me, this may all seem run of the mill for you, it is just that it has always been a huge stress for me - being a parent. I must admit I have been exhausted and irritable - for almost six years.

Yes the assessment morning on Saturday at Alleyn's was terribly stressful, but actually Freya's spirited, mischievous and manipulative behaviour gave me an appreciation of the little lady she is becoming. She is a feisty personality, and I really like her. Even if Freya was not mine, I would like her.

Max has been a big burly boy, careering about the drive on his scooter, frightening the heart out of me that the arborculturist would hit him with a falling branch as he removed another of our damaged trees. Yet Max insisted that we had a birthday party for his treasured 'Polo bear' on Sunday afternoon - it was really just a ploy so that we would buy him a cake from the patisserie in the village. Max is bouncy, full of testosterone, but a big softy and still a baby really - with a sweet tooth.

When they were both tots, I felt quite overwhelmed, and I remember feeling that it would never end. Freya stopped waking eight times a night just a couple of months ago. I remember my mother-in-law assuring me from the outset that it would all end soon:

'They are babies for such a short period of time', she said.

Why at seven they become boarders and then you have your home back virtually all of the time'.

I must admit, I have survived most of the last six years by trying to make everything as perfect as possible (the right supplements / foods / stimulation / immunisation). Smiling that glazed drug and exhaustion induced smile at every baby group in the locality. My pearly perfect veneers cost James a fortune. I have been counting down the days and months until Max could go to Winchester just like his daddy did, and then Freya too would be off to boarding school soon after.

It just occurred to me on Monday morning, I wouldn't be parted from these two little scamps - they are the best fun. I think if I could bottle the 'high' those children give James and I we would make a fortune. We laughed so much on Sunday afternoon I was afraid I would be sick.

I have realised just this weekend, that I am actually having fun. I think I have had postnatal depression for five and a half years. Either that or the GP has just got my dose of anti-depressants right!