It's raining, it's pouring, the old man's...

Well, I wish someone was snoring, preferably me. What do you do with a two year old and a small baby when it's pissing with rain outside and you don't have a car? If you're me, the need to get out of the house at least twice a day means that you go out anyway.

Picture the scene. Me - wellies (green of course), kagool, hat, hood up. Not sexy. O - wellies (not green), all in one waterproof suit, hat, hood up. Quite sexy. F - all in one suit, blanket, buggy with rain cover.

Out we go. O enjoys the puddles. We need to drop a registration form for F off at the surgery which is about quarter of a mile away, if that. AN HOUR LATER we get home!! I should know better by now. O decided to have a paddy on the pavement of a main road in full view of stationary cars at traffic lights. I picked him up - his wellies covered me in mud. He's incoherent and I have to carry him home whilst pushing the buggy.

Was it worth it all for the sake of getting out for a bit? Oh yes...

Meltdown? Moi?

Yes, I admit it. I am not super-human after all. After eight weeks of constantly being cried at or sucked on I finally lost my sense of humour. Not bad going considering, but I still felt dreadful about it. Poor N got an earful as well even though he's been nothing but an angel.

I guess the upshot is that parenting two small children is very hard work. My problem is that I try and continue doing all the things that people without two small children do too - cooking nice meals, keeping the house reasonably clean and tidy, getting out and about, maintaining a healthy relationship with my lovely husband. And frankly, something has to give. In our case it's the housework and - from time to time - my patience.

But, as always, just as I thought I'd never get any time to myself again, F decided to sleep in her Moses basket from 7.30pm until 11! Hurrah. Time to test the pelvic floor against the laugh test with an episode of the new series of Green Wing. God, I love that show. It's so random - just genius. The fact that F then decided to cry for the best part of an hour and refused to feed didn't stress me as I'd had my fix of 'me time'. Small pleasures.

And today, the sun is shining, O's been pottering in the garden, we've managed a stress-free trip to Sainsbury's and N will be back early from work. Life is good.