Having spent the last 39 years of my life (which incidentally are the only 39 years of my life) trying to avoid conflict of any description, I seem to have failed miserably this week in this regard.  I have a six year old who has more energy than the entire Liverpool soccer squad; who is "stronger" than Hillary Clinton was after discovering the truth about Monica, the blue dress and the Cuban cigar; and who, most unfortunately, was off ill this past week and was at home 24 hours a day, challenging me at every turn.  I have new respect for the teachers on this planet; and I have never longed for a full-time job more than in the last few days.

It seems that mothers and daughters bring with them a whole new dynamic that no-one tells you about until you have had your daughter and then, quite frankly, it is too late.  Whilst I admire my daughter for her absolute belief that the world revolves entirely around her, as a mother, I feel that I am aging rather quickly.

There must always though be a silver lining in the cloud, and in this case, it is two fold - firstly, I have developed a love for all things Penicillin that made her better in record speed, and secondly, I have discovered a new love - that I adore more than chocolate, white wine or even Chanel accessories - HOLIDAY CARE.  Whomever came up with the concept of holiday care should well and truly be Knighted.  I am in awe of this concept and now drive to school with a gusto like never before.  Long live the schools that have this as part of their service offering!

As a side, my newly found social life that seems to come with living in Johannesburg, which is prolific, and which I adore, is not good for my waistline, or, in fact, any other part of my body that needs measurement.  There seems to be this endless struggle - accept the invitation, enjoy the evening or lunch out, love the wine, the food, the conversation, but don't love the fact that the jeans that were once hanging on you, are now fitting quite snugly over the middle part of your body.

I heard once that you can eat, or you can drink (wine, not water), but you cannot do both.  Of course, I would like to do all of the above - after all, it is just such good fun.  I have given this a great deal of thought however, and I think I may have found the answer - starve on my off-social days, and life live during my on-social days.  The problem though is that the starve days may be so dismal, that I may want to convert more days to social days.

I was busy having this debate in my head this morning whilst forcing my jeans closed, when my same said daughter proclaimed, "mummy has a big bum bum".  I was mortified.

The lesson:  Always, always ensure you complete those holiday care forms on time!!!