(As I look at the mess surrounding me I wonder if my time would be better spent clearing up in order to de-stress? But then I remember the kids will be back soon enough and it'll look the same as soon as they've been in the house 2 minutes so I may as well write!)

Oh Referendum organisers, you can’t just involve us in politics as and when. You’re paid to discuss these issues and just because you don’t know the answer, throwing the blame to the masses is just another stress to parents. Seriously, I have enough to worry about with a one year old who doesn’t stop singing Star Wars, a 9 year old going on 19, bunnies burrowing to Australia, trying to make a sundial work for the 7 year old in the only week that has seen no sun and parents who’ve had to visit the GP because we thought Dad was having a heart attack. Stress, apparently. Stress caused by the person in the unluckiest trade in the world. Who in their right mind would choose to be a builder? A job that comes with the worst luck anyone could suffer. It comes with a van from the “you must buy your builder’s van from the broken van shop”; a sick parent, usually your mother unless you’ve already played the “I’m grieving for my mother” card; tools that “aren’t up to the job”; a necessity to buy glue from a shop 3 hours away - it must be very special glue; and to top it off your wife will leave you just as you’ve taken up all the floorboards that you can’t replace because you’re too upset and therefore you need a holiday with the money you’ve been given in advance for the job. It really is an unlucky job. Sadly my parents are too trusting, it goes with their good natures. Unlike me, I’m cynical through and through. In fact, I’m going to keep the salmon wallpaper in the new house, and the one working light in the lounge, the 1960s gas cooker that should be in a museum (but makes the best cakes) and the retro 1970s red/brown kitchen because I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone who could turn up and finish the job.

Much like the EU debate, leaflets flying through my door telling me what is and isn’t right. Who to trust. All I know is that I need to teach the baby some nursery rhymes, the sun might need to be replaced by a torch (much more reliable) and I’m sure salmon walls will be back en vogue very soon.

Oh and crack open the bubbly, we’ve survived half term! And, the butterflies are breaking out of their cocoons…Right, need to go and make a birthday cake, no time to wallow in nature’s beauty. Stressed? Me? Never.

P.S. Talking of doing their job, the lovely lady who looks after children’s eyes at the Children’s Centre has said ideally she would see every child’s eyes in Hertfordshire, even if they regularly go to the optician, just to double check their sight with their very cool machinery. Best to get a referral at your child’s two year check up but otherwise from your HV or GP at any time.