Gabriella, my 6 year old step-daughter, believes that her dad is an Olympian. It is the sweetest thing. He came back from the Great North Run with a medal (the one everyone get’s who finishes – not that I’m belittling his achievement, I think it’s amazing he can go from no training to running a half marathon!) and that was that. He came first and he’s going to win the Olympics.

Slightly less glamourous but equally as high an achievement in Gabby’s eyes, she thinks I can sew. Now, I used to spend time at my sewing machine making bags and curtains and cushion covers (Mike doesn’t believe me) but I literally haven’t touched a needle since before I met Mike apart from once when I sewed Gabriella’s swimming badge onto her costume. She was chuffed as mint balls (as my Grandma Portess used to say) and, unbeknown to me, I became a sewer.

Cue Friday night. Gabby came home with a bear that she had got from a charity shop. It had a hole under the chin and apparently all the way back from Alnwick (a 40-50 min drive) she’d been telling her dad what a good sewer I was and that I could fix it. So I did. I am sewer once more! She has since inspired me to sew up the hole in Reuben’s sock that I had just been ignoring…

Well, you have to celebrate the little achievements.

So, watch out holes, I’m coming for you. And, in the spirit of free kids fun, we might finally make that make-your-own-doll-kit I stupidly got my mum to get Gabby last Christmas.