Medical mishaps and motherly mismanagement

Last week we had more medical emergencies than an episode of Casualty.

I started the week cooing with pride as O learnt how to climb the step in the bathroom. "Come and see!" I called to N, who arrived just in time to witness O yelp as he flung himself head first at the only sharp corner in the room.

A couple of days later, I took O, now sporting a rather fetching cut and bruise on his cheekbone, to the Lakeland Wildlife Oasis to see sad Snow Leopards, odd looking hares and handsome red squirrels. I gave him his lunch in the cafe - my extra special homemade cheesy rice balls - which he happily smeared all over his face. Sadly, the cheese i'd used

Baby fat

The best thing about being pregnant was that I was supposed to have a big tummy – my stomach was something to be proud of at last. Instead of saggy skin left over from years of dieting, I now had a taut tum full of baby, rather than brownies.

Those days have gone however, and now, seven months after giving birth, the stomach remains, but without the prenatal glow. I in fact weigh exactly the same as I did when I left the hospital. How can that be?

I remember watching an episode of