Oh I hate it when so much time has passed since I updated. I feel so attached to this thing.

I got another email from the anonymous critic just before I left for Shropshire. They finally expanded on the self-obsession theory and it became obvious that it was just a point of view; that the sole grounds for their criticism were that they would not choose to do it themselves (which they did, to be fair, admit). For some reason the idea that I might think my family/friends are fab was abhorrent to them. They objected mostly it seems to the tone in which I write, implying that I am smug and, well, self-obsessed. They also felt it necessary in their email to hold their own life up as an example of worthiness. Which was a little ironic I thought.

Still. No hard feelings. They have every right to disagree with me and I don't disparage them for that. Just for the vehement way in which they decided to initially go about it. Nobody can convince me that just because I choose to own a blog I must accept desultory abuse.

Many thanks indeed for the opposite opinion, especially to Helen in Scotland who sent the most warming email ever. One of those complete strangers who seem to enjoy what I do here and made me believe (as I was wavering slightly) that keeping my journal in a public place is worthwhile after all.

Christmas has been one of my favourite in recent years. Thanks enormously for the huge effort put in, especially to Mormor (who was under exceptional stress this year as Morfar and Oldemor were both incapacitated) and Nanna for their single-handed hosting. I saw a lot of Sven and Charlotte who I feel like I haven't spent time with in ages. Spent just the right amount of time with each family group to avoid going completely crazy (or, hopefully, driving them that way). Reminded myself of how small my leg muscles have become by spending a couple of hours on the Long Mynd on my gorgeous Trek with Sven, Charlotte (uphill monsters) and Roj. Surprised myself by staying mostly above the snow (rather than in it) at Tamworth Snowdome with Roj and Olly for an hour's reminder before January's snowboarding trip to Courchevel. Was captivated by the bat cave at Chester zoo (hundreds of the things flying around your head). And received a very generous helping of lovely presents. Thank you to all.

Miles and particularly Jody have basked in the attention lavished upon them these last 10 days. Jody has enjoyed bedtime stories from every quarter and an outrageous number of indulgent gifts (our sitting room resembles Hamleys). Personally I have very much appreciated the chance to partially hand over responsibility for the kids (Roj has given me a great break by mostly taking over their feeding schedule and allowing me to lie-in as much as possible). Miles has been quite ill at times (coughs, colds and conjunctivitis which are fortunately now abating) which has predictably disrupted his sleep routine but I have mostly managed to cope because of fantastic support from everybody.

And now I can't believe it's the last of 2005. It's been an amazing year. Roj has done very well at work and I have enjoyed making the most of Marylebone community life. We've suffered minor setbacks (not moving to a bigger house being the obvious one) but in general the year has been a positive one. The most important event for us was of course the birth of Miles in April, which has changed our lives considerably. We are now fortunate enough to call our little family complete and look forward to the continuous learning curve that is keeping up with their future development.

As for New Year's resolutions, I probably should have a million. As usual they are vague concepts rather than concrete ambitions. I will try to stop shouting at Jody when she gets completely out of hand (temper temper). I will restrict myself to two glasses of wine in those evenings that we drink while I am still feeding the little un. I will continue in last year's aim to take criticism (and advice) better. I will hope to surpress the stress of moving when we jump on that wagon again in spring. I will try and improve my French and once again (maybe) pick up a paintbrush. I will increase the frequency of communication to my closest friends. And I will certainly continue to revel in being a full-time mum to my two lovely little monsters. How could I not?

I received an email yesterday from someone who clearly wanted to pass comment on my blog. It read only "How self obsessed can you get ..." I tried to enter into conversation with the sender by replying that they'd missed the point, but he/she was only willing to pass judgment, not justify the comment.

Of course the comment needs little justification. On the one hand a blog is a very self-obsessed thing. Particularly of the ilk that mine is - a personal journal rather than some vehicle for socio-political commentary.

But I feel that narcissism is a very one-dimensional way of looking at it. First of all I don't require other people to read it - they can take or leave it (like all personal websites) at will. If someone isn't interested or engaged by what I write I am more than happy for them to click away.

Primarily I write for those that know me. I write so that people can keep in touch with what I'm up to. I'm a rather lazy communicator and take comfort in the fact that my family and friends can know what I'm doing and how my kids are growing up even if I haven't gone to the lengths of communicating with them personally. If people don't know me, they might relate to some of the things I write about. I sometimes get emails from strangers in response. On one occasion the brother-in-law of a woman who was pregnant at the same time as me contacted me because he'd enjoyed reading my blog for the insight it gave him into pregnancy. It doesn't happen often (I don't flatter myself that my blog has broadness of appeal) but it gives me a sense of satisfaction to know that what I write about has engaged someone. I feel that I have momentarily crossed some sort of divide.

I also write because I enjoy it. I had a discussion with my mum about this the other day. I find the actual process of writing - albeit about the mundanity of everyday life - very cathartic. Yet - and here is where the narcissism creeps in - I admit that I would not be so dedicated to the act of writing if it was in a private journal that nobody would read. In one of many pipe-dreams I manage to write a bestselling novel (we all have dreams don't we?) Honestly speaking I know I never will - I have neither the time nor the imagination - but this blog is perhaps the closest I will get to it. It is certainly not of bestselling calibre, but it is in itself an exercise in writing and is written as much as possible as if someone else might be reading it. So that they understand and perhaps are even occasionally absorbed.

Next, I enjoy making a record of my life. There are so many facets which are really not interesting in the grand scheme of things but because of the nature of this blog, get mentioned anyway. Reading back - as I do occasionally when trying to remember when something happened - I am captivated by a whole host of things that I'd completely forgotten about my recent life. The blog, coupled with the photos, is a reminder of everything I do. I would feel sad if that record were lost because my memory is so unreliable. I feel reassured that my life - boring though it might be to most - hasn't vanished into the ether forever. Perhaps I hope that one day my kids - or theirs - will read my blog and be interested in what their mother was up to when she was 30ish. I know if it was my mother's public journal I would be fascinated.

And lastly, I love reading other people's blogs, even some that are written by complete strangers. The web can be a very impersonal place, but when you come across the story of someone else's life or a record of their thoughts that remoteness is amazingly reversed. I find the details of friends' blogs different from the details you find in their daily communication. It fills in holes because it talks about how they think and feel rather than purely the dissemination of information. You get so much more a picture of who they are than you do if you speak on the phone from time-to-time. I love that insight.

So while I admit to a small streak of self-obsession, I question whether there isn't in most people? I don't know anybody who won't stand for a few minutes at a time talking to you about what they do or what their kids have recently learnt. Isn't this the same thing? The difference that I can see is that the act of reading my blog is purely voluntary. I'm not sure I - nor any of my blogging brethren - deserve this harshest of criticism.

Anyone else have a view?

Ha ha. Did I say Miles was in pain over his last teething episodes? Now he's in pain! He's doing a good line in agonistic screeching at all hours. I'm doing a good line in impersonating a zombie. I had a rather weird experience while sitting upstairs with him on Sunday night. I turned to the music channel at about 2:30am to keep myself distracted and watched bemusedly as frumpy superimposed sign-langage women signed some big R&B and Rap hits. Like Usher's Yeah!. Lots of hip thrusts and suggestive miming. Very surreal. I'm sure there is better programming for the hard-of-hearing in the early hours than watching music videos brought alive by somebody else's mum. Although for amusement's sake I can see the appeal!

I'm finally making Christmas card progress. And high time too, with the last posting date tomorrow. I have the usual leftovers on my desk with question marks hanging over them. Do they live at this address? Is that spelt with an 'l' or a 'lle'?

I got my first Christmassy feeling too last Friday when I went to Jody's nursery for their Christmas performance. It was really just an opportunity for parents to sit in on the usual music and dance class but as the 20-or-so 2 year olds jumped around the room holding little bells and singing Jingle Bells it was hard not to feel festive. I was very touched afterwards too when 3 of the baby class teachers came over to me and talked about how much they love Jody in the class and will miss her next term when she moves into the next one. She is apparently one of the best-behaved and most caring toddlers they have - always putting her arm around any kid in pain or anguish and asking if they're OK and always putting her activities away without being asked. I'm so proud!

I feel more relaxed than usual about Christmas thanks to a large amount of online spending. Somehow I feel I'm cheating my recipients by not including a certain amount of shopper's blood sweat and tears with their presents. But when it means I can avoid the hell that is manoevring a double buggy along Oxford Street in late December, it's got to be a good thing. Perhaps the issue is that I'm missing out on the experience - shopping is tedious but very sensory and the whole online thing is a bit clinical. I suppose it's compensated for by the additional stress in the lead up - will it be delivered in time? Will the package give away its contents? Will it fit?

For all this whingeing I am actually a big fan of Christmas. I love getting together with family and sitting in front of the log fire with a glass of champagne as it gets dark outside. I love the smells in the house as dinner gets prepared and I even love the classic power struggles and havoc as the final preparations are made. I love wrapping presents and seeing them shining in the gloom under the Christmas tree. I love the smell of the tree - brought in only a day or so before - and its classic Danish decorations in red and white. I find the whole thing very atmospheric and evocative. I even like going to bed when the whole thing's over and then getting up and doing the whole thing again at Nanna's house!

Having kids - and watching what they make of it - adds a whole new dimension and I'm hoping they enjoy it as much as I always have. Miles will be the oblivious one this year but Jody - who last year was overstimulated to exhaustion - has already demonstrated an understanding beyond her years at Grandad's house. Now she can't stop talking about opening presents and pointing out Christmas trees in the street. I can certainly understand why the concept was introduced of kids being good in order to receive a visit from Santa Claus. Use what incentives are available to you and if there aren't any, make them up!

Lovely social week last week. Roj might have been in London but due to several early mornings and late nights you could be forgiven for assuming he wasn't. I did manage to have Pat and Milo over one afternoon to sort through little girl clothes and Lucy and Albie another with brand new teeny baby Olive. Spent most of Thursday with Sonia and the girls at their house getting frustrated at Jody's potty-training glitches (I yearn for a clear week). Friday after toddler group's Christmas party, spent a very enjoyable hour and a half with Sabine and Pat over Divertimenti salad (a little too healthy for my liking, but very good for the French). This latter will hopefully become a regular occurrence after the New Year.

Contrary to my hopes, I made almost no headway on Christmas cards. I managed to post the antipodean cards 2 days late and am already looking at a similar delay for the US cards. Still, as I am usually scrambling to post all cards in the couple of days before Christmas, it's better than normal.

Spent a long weekend doing a pre-Christmas Christmas in Tarporley with Grandad and Jill. Saturday - while Roj was shooting - I spent some time with Nanna (and constructing the lovely dolls house we've bought Jody for Christmas). Sunday spent a fab few hours at Oulton Park doing The Rally Experience (courtesy of Grandfather Christmas). Lots of fun making Cosworths do slidy turns around an unfeasibly slippy rally track. Even more fun because competitive Lara got the highest score for the first round before having to retire to the house to give the kids lunch. Ha!

The lunch of delicious chicken pie, amazing stilton and copious alcohol was very indulgent and due to the absence of some, somewhat less fractious than anticipated. Received a ton of extremely generous Christmas gifts (about half the entire range of Nigella Lawson kitchenware for a start), and watched as Jody entered wholeheartedly into a frenzy of gift-unwrapping. She certainly seems to have 'got Christmas' this year (despite feeling that the best use for the glass bauble-decorated Christmas tree in the stairwell was to use it as target practice from above).

Had a lovely pampering Monday courtesy of Roj. A much-needed back massage in the morning (Anne the masseuse said I had a compressed spine due, she thought, to minor whiplash after a car accident. I haven't had a prang since I wrote off the Vauxhall Nova aged 18 but she said it could well be unaddressed residue from that time. I certainly felt better after she'd yanked my head around a few times). Even got my hair cut in the afternoon which was long overdue. I might even go so far as to say it's a good cut and I enjoyed being there, which coming from a self-confessed salonophobe is progress indeed.

Got back to London Monday night and dumped all bags so the flat is now in complete disarray. Not sure if that's contributing to me feeling slightly low these last few days. Certainly not helped by some serious bad-mother moments this morning as first Jody then Miles tumbled off our bed onto the floor. Both were unhurt but Miles needed quite a lot of cuddling to calm him down. I should have known it was coming as he increases in mobility but I didn't credit him with the ability to do a full situp yet. Looks like it's time to lower his own bed before he learns to hurdle out of that one too.

Looking forward to some better sleep this week. Miles and Jody had hideous coughs and colds at the weekend and as both were in our bedroom I got little or no sleep at all. One or the other was either coughing, feeding, crying or puking at any one time. I wonder if Miles has now entered a new phase of teething as well since he is extremely disrupted. Jody was an average sleeper when she was a baby (she didn't sleep through the night until she was 9.5 months) but she seems an angel in comparison. still ... this is what I signed up for ...

Sickness prevented everything last week. Needless to say I kept Jody in on Friday, and Pippa wisely gave us a wide berth. In fact I decided to drive up to Shropshire at lunchtime instead of during the evening which is a decision I regretted later when it took over 4.5 hours to get there (compared to the normal 3.25) including a final hour of dual whinging. At least I could relax over dinner and half a bottle of wine though, and not rush straight to bed as I usually do.

Lovely to see my parents (and have them so obviously revel in the company of the brood). They even managed to borrow a cot (which they'd converted to a co-sleeper) which meant that Miles, after initially being reluctant, slept very well indeed and kicked me less than usual. Unfortunately I was suffering a little from Jody's poorly tummy - particularly on Saturday - so wasn't on top form.

Spent Saturday evening (watching X-Factor - Shayne to win!) and Sunday with Grandad and Jill (and Daddy, finally) in Tarporley. Lovely leisurely lunch on Sunday at the Pheasant with Miles sitting happy as larry in a high-chair for about 2.5 hours and Jody becoming more and more whingy by the second. Can't have it both ways. Sunday evening we left for London and made it in a speedy 3 hours. All to be repeated when we go up to Tarporley again this Friday.

Jody's back at nursery this week and her appetite has returned so I assume she's feeling better. They're kind enough to let her have an extra day (to compensate for last week) on Wednesday which theoretically allows me some time to make Christmas card headway. Theoretically I said.

Miles is taking his turn at the tummy lurgy though, as evidenced by a complete lack of appetite (no puking thank goodness). Unfortunately milk alone doesn't sustain him adequately so he went back to 1.5-hourly waking last night. I think his eighth tooth is about to put in an appearance too, which can't help.

We had weigh-ins yesterday which put Jody at her characteristic 98th percentile height and 75th weight, and Miles at 90th weight (after the recent weeks' weight loss) and 100th+ height. She is only 3kg heavier than him but I'm not sure when the crossover will occur (too many calculations required for my tired mind). If the theory is true that you can measure a 2.5 year old and double it to calculate their final height, then she will attain 6' 2" when fully grown. Which isn't outside the realms of possibility considering her heritage.

Arranged with Pat this afternoon to switch the failing French lessons from Wednesday afternoons to Fridays (after toddler group, before picking Jody up from nursery), at which point we will be toddler-free and therefore able to conduct adult conversations in French over expressos somewhere. Sounds most appealling. Let's hope Sabine concurs.

In useless blog trivia, this is my 365th posting which - in just over 4 years - isn't bad. I always meant to update more frequently but can't risk boring the readership senseless!

I'm faced with the classic bad-mother scenario. Do I send Jody to nursery tomorrow morning despite the fact that she threw up on Tuesday night, Wednesday morning and again tonight? Obviously I shouldn't although I suspect tonight's puking was down to a piece of pasta going down the wrong way rather than continuation of what I think was a 12-hour stomach bug. If I do, I get a small break and am able to take Miles to toddler group in the morning where I can relax and drink coffee and enjoy catching up with other mums. I've already spent two days at home on health patrol and Roj has been away so other than a brief chat in the playground this morning and a couple of phone conversations I've had no adult company whatsoever. Which drives one a little crazy as you can imagine, heightening the need for aforementioned break/coffee/catchup. Obviously I'm not going to send her though. Dammit.

On the bright side Miles is totally better and a very different baby. He's happy and relaxed and lovely. He's also had a haircut (woohoo - it took Jody 18 months to need one) and is finally happy to spend time on his front (previously he would yell to be turned over). I don't anticipate crawling is imminent but it's a step in the right direction.

Continuing the obsession with sleep (or lack thereof): On Tuesday night Miles slept calmly and fed only thrice (shame I spent 1.5 hours up with Jody puking from 3:15am). On Wednesday he ate a mammoth amount of solids but no milk, so by nightime he was clearly on calcium catchup mode. Today I have ensured adequate milk consumption in an effort to prevent the night feeding frenzy. Getting his eating and sleeping scheduling right is still proving a bit of a challenge even though 8 months into life with my second baby you'd have thought I might be able to work it out.

I must say he's lost quite a lot of weight this last month as a result of teething and viruses. Looking back at photos from September it's amazing how his thunder thighs have thinned out. He's not as lean as Jody by any stretch of the imagination, and probably never will be, but he's not the super-chunk he's been renowned for. (Just how much weight he has lost will become clear at his 8 months' home weigh-in this Sunday, when I will also be calculating how long it will be 'til he overtakes Jody who will have her 2.5 year weigh-in the following weekend. Not long, is my expected conclusion.)

Off to Tarporley this weekend after a visit from Pippa and the girls tomorrow (Jody's health allowing). The drive - or rather the packing of the car - is all a bit challenging in Roj's absence but I'm hoping it'll go smoothly enough for me to leave by 7pm. I'll also be spending just under 24 hours at my parents' house while Roj is off shooting with his dad so I aim to get a small quantity of r&r if humanly possible. Mind you, my poor mum has turned into the perpetual carer this week after Oldemor had a nasty fall on Wednesday. Fortunately no bones broken this time (Christmas in hospital would have been a nightmare) but all involved must have been shaken. Wishing her a speedy recovery.

And congratulations - because I've omitted it to date - to Lucy and Sam for the birth of baby Olive on 20 November. She came 3 weeks early during a 2-hour labour (and I thought I did it fast!). Fortunately Lucy had been aiming for a homebirth or she may have been somewhat shocked. I've only had a brief peek at sleeping Olive in the baby-bjorn but for someone who has their babies 8 and then more than 9lbs, she looks exquisitely miniscule.