Gradually it got easier, the girls slept a little better but just as importantly I began to learn how to juggle. I grew into my role of mother of two and although the days (and nights) still had the potential to be challenging, I was more able to mentally cope.
Lemonade appears to be closing the door on a chapter. A door intrusively pushed ajar by an unsuspecting elevator surveillance tape. The public clamoured for an explanation, however, Beyonce's true response was never likely to please everybody.
In the midst of all this easy-to-use technology, somehow we lost touch with the fact that someone has to build it all. And the kids have become consumers, sitting slack-jawed and motionless above the wrists for hours, killing baddies but never knowing the thrill of summoning the code-driven genies themselves.
Let me try to explain. GP's computer systems have things called READ codes, they are put on to people's notes. For example there are READ codes for gender, age band (e.g 18-25), whether you are a smoker or non-smoker, aswell as specific health conditions.
Do you truly imagine I've not considered it? Or, perhaps, do you think I have - but clearly a nudge is in order, and you're the right person to give it? What if I've deliberated, but ultimately decided against it? Are you the right person to convince me I'm wrong?
I've been in this bedroom since I was five. It's gone through multiple makeovers. From white walls with fairy images and glow in the dark stars; to an ocean blue with seahorse wall-paper and tween posters of tween crushes; to a very sophisticated beige and brown for the latter years.
The boys are now nine and seven years old and I continue to store up our more amusing conversations. My kids don't read my blog (yet). When they do, I hope they will thank me for recording the innocence of their childhood, rather than resenting all this exposure. I love you boys, more than you can imagine.
I had thoroughly prepared for a positive birth experience, but not for one that went so far off plan. It took me a long time to be able to discuss the birth calmly, and even longer to forgive myself for decisions made in moments of panic.
Recently, I've read a few articles written by parents who for some reason or another feel like a failure. They are not, they really aren't. And unsurprisingly these thoughts have come after they've been criticised for something someone else thinks about their parenting.
To mark the end of World Autism Awareness Week, Beatrix, my amazing autistic daughter, would like to share her personal experiences of Asperger's. She would really like to make a difference, to make her own little mark on the internet, so please share...
Therefore, without any excuses, I should do my chores. Yet before I get to them, my mum has already taken over and would rather I studied. I only hope that she releases her book soon.
It's a toughie. In the kitchen I am rarely just cooking. There is usually also some tidying, cleaning, laundry and conversation also taking place. And often a toddler driving a plastic car into my legs.
We just mucked about all day with no rules to rein us in. We had no clock to worry about, or no structure to adhere to. We just simply went with the flow. An easy-going day full of fun, bonding and an astronomical amount of laughter.
I am determined not to allow myself to be limited by my fear of interacting with people. Whether I was born with an inclination towards social anxiety or whether I happened to develop it, I'm desperate to overcome it.
Conner was put on life support machine in intensive care: We knew the situation was very serious and grave. However, despite the horrendous circumstances we were in, Richard and I, and both our children, drew a lot of comfort from the way the hospital managed everything.
This year, soon to become a mother of two and having recently gained so many wrinkles that our clothes look ironed by comparison (they aren't, but every cloud...), I decided to focus on building my mental resources with project 52 pauses.