The boy is nearly one. We're having a party. It's turning in to quite a big one. It's supposed to be in the garden. The weather isn't looking too great. Come Saturday 60 people including 15 children may well be crammed into one newly converted barn (hear the beads of sweat forming on my mother's brow). But fingers crossed the weather will play ball and we can play in the garden.
The boy is a bit confused - he can't decide whether to walk or crawl. He's decided he likes Mr Jones more than me - apart from when he wakes up in the night when apparently only mummy will do. I think money must be changing hands somewhere. Today he took two tiny steps away from me and to his Daddy - of course. Jolly exciting.
Mr Jones has a new job, he is currently on garden leave - I'd like it noted that he hasn't so much as picked up a trowel or touched the lawn mower. He has however cleaned out the shed, helped me decorate the sitting room and built me some shelves. I go back to work next week - Mr Jones still has three weeks off - grr.
We have a new garden - it's across town and is full of trees - and nettles and ivy - but one day it will be beautiful and the perfect place for small boys ang girls to play. There are ponies in the next field. On Saturday we took our tools down there to clear some mess - then we sat in the sun and drank champagne instead - ooooh get us.
Sometimes I wonder if it's possible to be too happy? Then the ever present pessimist in me thinks that at some point something horrid will happen to take it all away. I hope not. It's marvellous to be very happy.
Mrs Jones is a far from yummy mummy with a penchant for M&S fudge bars and a mojito on a Friday night. She became Mrs Jones in 2009 and a mummy in 2010. In 2011 she is attempting to remember her own name and not put washing powder in the dishwasher....