Chickens in a box

What a fantastic weekend! A champagne fry-up at Anne and Tim's and then we all clambered aboard our mini-bus for a fantastic day's racing. The boys loved it, and we actually managed to win on a few races so everyone was happy. It was bitterly cold, but moving between paddock, rails and the mulled wine bar kept us warm and James found his niche in life sitting on the bar having his feet massaged by Anne and generally holding court. We came home just in time to put the boys to bed and then round 2. Into our finest glad rags and off to Casino Night at Richard and Sonya's. More champagne, more gambling - the perfect end to a perfect day.

A lovely, crisp Autumn afternoon to be out and about with William and the Cherries.

Or rather, what it doesn't mean to be a Mother, and being unable to control my children effectively in a supermarket is not going to give me sleepless nights. My apparant lack of discipline came up completely out of the blue over the weekend, much to my dismay and after initially feeling absolutely livid, I started to question my parenting ability and felt terrible - there's no escaping the fact that the boys are a nightmare when let loose in shops. Then I started to think about what my role in their lives actually is, and does it really matter? There are no manuals to help you with being a parent and I don't have any one to go to for advice. When they think about me later in life, are they going to care that I made sure they were obedient at all times? Of course not, memories are made of much more than that and so are Mothers. My role (as I see it) is to give them stability, confidence, happiness, security, support, comfort and adventures. The things that Eddie and I will...

A day of incredible ups and miserable downs. Mistake Number 1; Taking James into Newbury - a hideous mistake. He was a nightmare, fiddling with EVERYTHING, until eventually he surpassed himself by squirting almost an entire tube of tinted moisuriser over the Boots counter. After lunch (which James refused to eat unless fed), we walked over to St Martin's to the school service. The rain had been torrential all morning but suddenly it cleared and the afternoon was beautiful - very windy - but beautiful. We set off through the orchard and as we emerged 2 mums en route to the church stopped, appalled, to offer us a lift. It was very kind but actually I was so happy enjoying the wild and windy day with James. The service was lovely, we sat just behind William and had a great view. Will was thrilled to see us and so kept getting told off for turning round! When the service had ended we all went home together for hot Ribena, malt loaf and CBeebies (or in my case, the ironing). Unfortunate...

I call Tuesday my 'Invincible Day' because there's always so much to fit in; lunchbox for James, sandwiches for Eddie, getting both boys to school and pre-school, then across for a polo lesson, home to woof lunch, shower and do some work, then back out to pick the children back up again, tea, bath, story, bed. Most of the time I do get through it unscathed and collapse in disbelief that I've survived, before prising myself off the sofa to make supper. Sadly today was more eventful than most because Sonya had a nasty fall in the polo lesson. I didn't see it happen but by all accounts the horse just went down on its knees and she somersaulted over its head. She's obviously done some serious damage to her shoulder and I'm waiting to hear what the verdict is in terms of the extent of the injury. A frightening experience and it does make you feel very small and very mortal. There you are, hurtling around on these huge animals, arms flailing and who knows what cou...

Much excitement in the run-up to this year's Bonfire Night at school, the boys conveniently forgetting that last year they hid in the kitchen terrified of the bangs.... In a moment of inspiration, this year we went armed with Eddie's shooting ear defenders and, having picked a cracking viewpoint, settled down with hot dogs and beers while William and his friends fenced each other with light sabre-esque glow sticks. Ear defenders in place, William finally enjoyed a firework night, and when Daniel Fernandez (the coolest boy in Cherry class) stood next to him, the defenders were finally removed and the two boys oohed and aahed with the best of us.

I have dim recollections of struggling down the Oxdrove in the pitch black trick or treating; picking off the neighbours we knew (about 2 houses) and Granny and Grandpa. Not the most fun, but we gave it our best shot. So with children of my own I decided this year it was time to unleash Hell on the unsuspecting villagers of East End. This being England it was a (relatively) civilized affair, with the victims warned in advance to give them time to turn the lights off at the appropriate moment and hide behind the sofa. Fortunately our friends got into the spirit of the evening and took the swarm of small and not-so-small children howling on their porches very well. Pumped with E numbers (children) and wine (parents), we returned for 'Casper, the Friendly Ghost' (children) and pumpkin soup with more wine (parents). All together a fabulous evening, finally ending only when I turned off the TV and all the lights, banished the children from the sitting room and requested that they ...