There are times when the kids and the baking and the homemaking and the going to work all get a bit too much. Those are times for my good friend Pino Grigio

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Living in a house, a medium sized house, in the country

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a cat, in possession of a new country garden, is in want of a mouse. It seems it does not matter if this cat was previously the laziest stayabed city dweller. Suddenly, she finds country living provides her with a smorgasboard of tasty furry treats, which she feels she must share with us. Having only in recent months begun to enjoy a full nights sleep, we are now frequenlty woken up by the death shreeks of the local rodent population. Squeek.....skitter skitter....silence....squeek....skitter skitter....silence. A real treat at 2am and makes for a fun new treasure hunt every morning before the kids get up. So far she hasn't found the pond. I fear frogs will be noisier and softer underfoot.

Mol and Laurie have been busy playing and the current obsession seems to be "Doctoring". Mol was running around after her bath with just a stethoscope on and insisted on taking it into her cot. Removing a stethoscope from a sleeping babe turns out to be an operation in itself. The rest of us are covered with plastic plasters and bandages usually for strange underwater ailments (the Octonauts are a big favourite). I have high hopes for being kept well in my old age- long may the obsession continue, although maybe with more underwear on.

In other news it is raining. In the house. We have a damp back passage. A common and unpleasant complaint whoever you may be. On the plus side, hopefully the rain and decorative bucket instillation we have going on by the front door, will discourage the cat from goinng outside. Fingers crossed.

One small step for Mum many giant(ish) ones for Mol

It's been a week of firsts here in the valley. I am starting to find my feet in the village and have begun to make my first brave steps into new mum and tot groups. How come it feels like the first day of school again even for the grown ups? The mums so far are very friendly although super fit. When having nothing so add to a conversation about road biking and marathon running I had to admit to maybe looking into a local Zumba class as my excersise routine to date.Maybe. Still, I feel I have moved to a cliff top village (this may be a slight exaggeration) so the climb must be dong wonders for me!

Maybe to mark the sad passing of Neil Armstrong, Mol has finally decided she will take her first proper `giant leaps` and has started to appear from higher up the wall when she now pokes her head around to say "boo". This is good news in that since she has been cruising since she was about 9 months its about time, but bad news in that blinkin` shoes cost £24 these days. They are however very sweet.

Laurie had his first week at Pre-school. He looks tiny compared to the other kids but it doesn't seem to bother him. He has come home pretty happy so far and has started singing different songs and playing different games. Apparently however he does "nothing" at school every day. I am told by mums of older boys that he will do "nothing" for the rest of his school career.

What would Nigella do?....(if she had half the budget and no waitrose)

Nigella, what a wonder! She can juggle two kids, a husband and a last minute dinner party for 30 and make it look simple. I strive to be more goddess like, although I significantly lack in both budget and bust compared to Ms Lawson.

I do however try to cook for my family everyday as its much cheaper and more convinient than ready meal,s especially as we now live some way from the nearest shop. Cooking for wee ones seems to be a bit of a rollercoaster as you need to balance prep time against cost and "will they actually eat that". Needless to say there are always fishfingers in the freezer and if all fails eggy bread is always a winner!

This morning I wake from a horrid night of teething baby. Normally that would mean a lie in but as a stag widow for the weekend and with an active 3 yr old, I plod on. At this point Nigella would be in some cashmere or velvet wrap and not mis matched Quantas airline pjs. I am ignoring this fact and have  managed to bake a ploddy pie for lunch based on (with lazy adaptations) Nigella's "pizza rustica alla Inglese".

Looking forward, thinking back

One day I realise I will be able to visit the toilet by myself, I will not have a handbag that smells of wee (due to an unfortunate potty training episode) and I will be able to watch grown up television  not Mr Tumble. But I imagine on that day, when I am luxuriating in an empty house with a glass of wine and a book, I may realise I miss my kids.Well I may.

Hence the birth of Anonimum- my way of documenting the sand eating, cat chasing, yoghurt flinging, supermarket screaming, naughty step sitting, nose picking, wobbly toddling world of 'The Early Years'.