Walking to school today, I got the thumbs up by some men driving a Sodhexo van. Clearly, I am showing my age because I was not flattered, but irritated that they thought it appropriate to show overture to a school mum - whilst driving a van that supplies school lunches to children. If I was running Sodhexo I would be even less impressed.

There will, I feel sure, reach a point in the next 10 years, that I am flattered. I suspect in 10 years it may not happen. Perhaps I should have been flattered. On the other hand, the male ability to find attractiveness simply in being female, means that I am undoubtedly right not to be so.

I had a conversation with a friend about cost cutting. This led onto talk of dogs and then anal glands. She and her husband had watched a YouTube clip on how to deal with this tricky issue. The key is to inserting and pulling upwards and out. It then clearly states

"Do not have your face in direct line of the anus"

Clearly good advice. Mine was pay the vets fee, there are times when money is very well spent.

I went to the doctors today. The only appointment was after school. I think it may be a policy to discourage my attendance. Having decided it was good planning to warn the small ones I would need to expose my breasts, lest they die of hysterical laughter, I soon regretted it.

The waiting room was full.

"Why are you here?" asks another child

"My Mummy is going to show them her boobies" said small child.

So another trip to the clinic, another squeeze and flatten xray and another biopsy. No man is coming near me unless he has a local anaesthetic or a large container of gas and air. I pray that it is not after school.

It is the week of heart to heart with the children. Stuck up a step ladder is a good time, since they know you are going nowhere. It makes me feel a little guilty, since I realised that it has been some time. It also makes me realise that no matter the age, they do all want to talk. Wanting to talk and being able to do so are not entirely the same thing. I count myself so very lucky that I have boys that on the whole can talk about anything. I count myself very amiss in not having done so for such a long time.

Children are very hardy. They can cope with anything. Sometimes things go on in their head, sometimes there are external behaviours that indicate there is something going on. Sometimes they won't tell you because they don't want to rock the boat. Sometimes they don't realise they have a right to their views and that people want to hear them. Sometimes they try and I am too busy and I miss the cue.

Stuck up a ladder in a kitchen full of dinner plates and washing on the floor, makes me feel a trifle overwhelmed. The task of raising 4 boys and trying to achieve a simple job of DIY is overwhelming. Everything takes longer and nothing is ever completed. Two pictures got broken and one school shoe went missing. One child didn't want dinner, the dog ate someone elses. One child scowls at each other and the other cries. The dog licks the paint and the minute I get to the top of the ladder, another child falls over. I get down, I break something else and the whole thing just goes on. By the time I have achieved nothing, I have to do bath time. By the time they are in bed, I want to go to but I have to get back up the ladder.

But it is the moments when your child is really talking and trusting you with their inner thoughts, that you realise how special and precious they are.

Yesterday they were quite special too. We tried to harness the dog to a toboggan. She was having none of it. We had to resort to tying the middle child and making him run up and down instead. He has to be the most compliant child in the world.

I hope that they retain there ability to talk. I hope they grow up honest and sensitive. I hope that any damage that I will have undoubtedly done damages nothing in their future. I hope that they have moral fibre, self esteem and kindness. I can only hope since I cannot predict the future, I can only be part of the presence.

On a totally irrelivent note. I was looking at the photograph of policemen using riot shields as toboggans. I think I may start a support group. In a society of rules, regulations and litigation, I for one, thought it refreshing. We are supposed to be a nation of quirky. We are supposed to be a bit mad. People that are obsessed with how they appear to others are generally the ones you need to worry about.

I was brought up to believe that you earn respect and should not demand it. I respect ingenuity. I respect people being humans.

If you want respect, earn it. If you want respect, be human.

If you want fun, bend the rules