I think I’ve been planning my last Web Child blog almost from the moment I wrote my first one. But in my dreams it was very different to the one I’m writing now. But then, I’m a very different person - and parent - than I was 73 blogs ago...

A long time ago, in a suburban house somewhere on a very big island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, there lived a Mummy, a Daddy, a Little Girl and a Little Boy. They were very happy except for one little thing - Daddy would never read the children their bedtime story...

I've written about sex on this blog before. It's one of those parental rites of passage really, isn't it? The Sex Talk. Naturally, it isn't really just one talk but rather an ongoing course of study in sex education that only ends - well, who knows when? As parents, I think before we have The Talk our main concern is how exactly we will explain the ins and outs of the deed - yes, quite literally. But what I have realised is, there is a whole other - possibly deeper - aspect to sex education I hadn't considered...

I can handle fussy eaters. I can accept messy handwriting. I can deal with lacklustre colouring-in efforts. But there is something that I simply will not tolerate in my children, and that is meanness towards others. This week we had to address an incident which had at its heart a disregard for the feelings of another child and I am not ashamed to say that our method of managing it was harsh and unforgiving...

I read The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells when my kids were babies. Back then I had two little ones in nappies so when the character of Vivi ‘dropped her basket’ (and ended up in a ‘mental health facility’) after a particularly gruesome bout of gastro ripped through her family, I sympathised. Quite simply, me and poo have never been great friends...