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We were up early this morning. The littlest woke at 6 - after a whole nights sleep in his cot - the second in a row. The others woke up before 7.

You'd think having almost a whole extra hour would be a good thing and we have a happy and relaxed and unrushed walk to school. Nope. As it happens it's just an extra hour to fight with your brother.

Now I am just back from running the gauntlet that is the post office interrogation room, with a pile of parcels.

The shock, the horror, the sighs, the frowns when I suggested one of the parcels contained a present with a small mercury battery in it.

I'm now having a cup of coffee and a deep breath before the last of the littlest's swimming classes for this year.

And I'm feeling just a little bit guilty about getting one digit of my brother's post code wrong. To be honest I had realised before I left the post office but I just didn't have the strength to pipe up. If you know our local post office, you'd understand.