This week we have been living it up in the Isle of Wight. This is holidaying at its most intrepid. I would consider myself as reasonably well travelled and fairly adventurous on the whole, but since having our first son our passports have seen bugger all action. We've indulged in a long weekend in the new forest (ooh la la), another at the Suffolk Center Parcs (get us), and now we're jetting off to sunny Seaview, wait for it, for a whole week.

My son is two today and this is strangely and unexpectedly very emotional. I feel joyful and proud of the little human he is, reflective and nostalgic that he’s no longer a baby, and somewhat euphoric for actually keeping him alive for two whole years.

I think I have heard the word "no" approximately 8000 times today. My son is definitely on to us about this new baby lark and is having none of it this week. He's only two so it's easy for me to project in error, but I'm sure he is sensing that something odd is imminent.

I had a pedicure this morning, then a two hour nap. I am now eating a BBQ beef Hula Hoops sandwich — officially winning at maternity leave. I finished work on Friday after a rather frenzied scrabble to get everything I wanted done but have now made it to that dream state where you book in doing bugger all, allow yourself treats and pampering and put your feet up.