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Two things of note happened recently. Number one is that both babies slept through the night until eight o’clock yesterday morning and I, like the fool that I am, thought – ‘Great, that’s it – they’re sleeping through the night and I can now resume life much as it was before they popped into my world.’ Well, I don’t need to tell you that all that changed when Rose woke screaming her head off for grub at four o’clock this morning and no matter what reason I gave, she was not taking ‘No’ for an answer. And so I stomped around the room half hoping that she would be astute enough to pick up on the bad vibes I was hurling in her direction but all I got was a gummy smile. Either Rosie is not very sensitive to other people’s deep-rooted resentments or she doesn’t really give a toss and has figured out already that she will be able to resolve most of life’s problems with her natural charm. Of course she got her bottle and her back rub and her kisses and hugs. Clever Rosie.

The second thing was that Molly’s school report arrived. Now, being the youngest of six in my family, by the time my school report ever arrived, my mother had become so inured to ‘must try harder’ or ‘doesn’t listen’ or ‘you’re daughter’s uniform is a scandal’ that everything just rolled off her and she would vaguely ponder the report’s dubious contents before saying “Well done, Darling.” These days’ things are different. I counted eight ‘excellents’’ in Molly’s report and one “Outstanding.” From what I can gather I either have a five year old genius who as well as having a more superior intelligence than any man alive is, as can be gleaned from her teacher, the most fun and most obliging person ever or she has been paying off said teacher all year. I am still bemused as to how she can leave my house screaming blue murder and step through those school doors where her behaviour is described as ‘always excellent’ and as having ‘a loving gentle nature.’ She made me read the report out loud twice and as she hadn’t come across the word “outstanding” before (she obviously hasn’t changed a nameless twin’s dirty nappies) wondered what it meant. I thought of the few outstanding experiences of my life so far and wondered whether the taste of a donor kebab after five pints of lager topped the list but decided that perhaps she was too young to appreciate or approve of this so settled for the moment of her arrival into the world at four in the morning on an icy Saturday in December. She was pleased with this explanation and it’s the truth I suppose although five pints of lager and a donor kebab after the trauma of childbirth would have been sweet.