I seriously don’t know where the last seven days have disappeared to.

It all seems so much of a blur; I’ve resorted to flicking through the diary to remind myself of what I actually did.

I presented the One Show for a night where Joanna Lumley said I had a, “face for a portrait”, there was a photo shoot to update my portfolio since having the babies, went to the farm with Michael and the little ones, got my hair done, had two, yes two, amazing nights out with the husband, friends came over, had lunch with my dad and still managed to look after the children, cook, wash clothes, clean the house as well as go for a couple of runs in Richmond Park.

I’ve just given you a snapshot of what happened so, needless to say, you can guess I’m absolutely shattered.

So tired that yesterday I polished off a whole box of Ferrero Rocher to give myself some energy (they were on offer in Sainsbury’s, so I don’t feel that bad).

But no matter how tired I am, I’m still up at 7am firing on all cylinders until both munchkins are in bed sound asleep 12 hours later.

As a parent you just keep going.

There’s something inside that spurs you on whether it be that cheeky smile I get when I walk into my son’s room in the morning, trying to prize open the baby’s mouth with tricks to make sure she finishes her dinner or playing catch around the house.

These moments are priceless and sometimes I have to take a step back and pinch myself. I have the best husband ever and two beautiful, happy children who complete me. 

Sorry if I’ve come over all sentimental and emotional, but I’ll have caught up with my sleep by next week!

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