Happily, as we had hoped, Daniel's MRI and blood test came back completely normal.

It's funny how one's perspective shifts from day to day, and even within a single day. One day you're worrying about too much laundry, the next day you're worrying your child's eye may never be straight or fully functional, the next day you couldn't give a toss about the squint, you just want the child.



Things are, dare I say it, going quite smoothly at the moment. My car just came out of about five weeks in ICU however, after I did something quite awful to it, with the help of an enormous invisible pothole. Lovely to be back behind the wheel of my precious baby again, after three grim weeks driving around in something resembling a tin box on wheels (the only thing going for this rental car, other than that it was paid for by our insurance, was that we could fit all six of us in it).

In other news, Stephen is now six months and I have started working again. The extremely cool thing is that I am working from home, and only two hours a day - most of which I can fit in while he sleeps in the morning. It's a huge relief not to be leaving him at a creche or something, and I love the flexibility, and not having to do the drive to the office, which was about an hour in the morning, and half an hour at lunchtime. I'm not sure exactly how the rest of the year will pan out, but for now I'm just taking it one month at a time.

Along with Stephen's six month birthday came the deadline to apply for unemployment benefits for maternity leave, and Peter and I spent a good part of Thursday, Friday and Monday going up and down to labour centres. I made no fewer than SIX attempts at making my claim, most of them at the centre closest to work to make it easier for Peter to come with me to look after Stephen while I waited in queues and argued with clerks.

Trip 1. Thursday morning. Optimistic. However. No copy of banking statement (requirement NOT mentioned in list of documents on government web site Basic Guide to Maternity Benefits). Also, error on form filled out by HR person at work.

Trip 2. Friday morning. Have bank statement, new copy of form, but pessimistic. Surprise! Name in ID book does not match name in government records. No marriage certificate (marriage certificate was in other ID book that was stolen in December robbery, previous ID book currently being used).

Trip 3. Friday lunchtime. Remove, using steam, marriage certificate from Peter's ID book. Transfer to own book. Frantic, think today presumably last day to claim, baby turns 6 months old on Monday. Kids waiting in aftercare. Phone labour centre nearer home to check on lunch hour. Discover have only 20 minutes before (unpublished) early Friday closing time. Navigate through traffic, to address listed on web site, with screaming baby (Peter now at work, lucky). Arrive, in nick in time, to find Department of Labour now Department of Transport. Department of Labour has moved. And will be closed in seven minutes, wherever it may be.

Trip 4. Friday afternoon. Hysterical. Remove, using steam, marriage certificate from own ID book. Transfer to Peter's book. Think possibly dodgy to pretend marriage certificate is own. Feed baby, toss baby in car with miscellaneous snacks for older children. Collect several hundred kids from respective schools, return to work (labour centre near work still open!). Hopeful! Drop hundreds of kids off with Peter, including baby, drive to labour centre. Labour centre closed. Opening hours now visible on closed door. Security guard smirks at me through closed door. Go back to car. Cry. Swear. Have even missed out on planned tea with friends. Feel universe hates me. Hate universe right back.

Spend good chunk of weekend depressed about probably losing all that money, perhaps half of four months of my salary.

Trip 5. Monday morning. Resolute. Last Attempt! Determine new whereabouts of labour centre nearer home, totally averse to other one. Leave baby with Peter, drive to centre, wait in queue, ask info clerk whether am in right queue, info clerk peruses papers, declares mismatch between previous and current company name. Need letter from company to back up name and reference number change. Wonder just what universe's problem with me is.

Trip 6. Monday morning, later. What the hell. Return to original labour centre. Wait for hours in queue. Baby crying, somewhat luckily as get bumped up queue. In new short queue, commiserate with queue mate about labour centre. Get solicited for money by queue mate for grandmother's leg condition. So surprised, almost laugh. Get to front of queue, wait while officer takes long social call from Auntie Veronica. Scary thing, this is the efficient guy. Supply forms, bank statement, marriage certificate (bit worse for wear, now), forms with mismatching company info.

Unthinkable happens. Application accepted.

Doesn't mean I'll necessarily get any actual money mind you.

In other, happier, news, I have been teaching Danny to ride his bike without training wheels the last few weeks, and yesterday, for the first time, it suddenly clicked and he was riding the length of the garden. We were both so excited we sort of hurled ourselves into each other's arms and twirled madly around on the lawn.

Reading, swimming and bike riding - surely the three great freedoms of early childhood.