This is the second day that I have been really ill. Yesterday I went to see the doctor, as I have been unable to sleep through coughing and it's just miserable. He announced that I had a chest infection and that as usual, I had been overdoing it. Since I had George my immune system has been really low and he recommended a complete break.

"Is taking tomorrow morning off work a complete break?" I asked. Given the look he gave me, apparently not. "No", he said. "I mean a complete, all-expenses-paid-trip-to-the-Caribbean sans baby kind of a break". Is he insane?

But given that I have basically been ill for about two months non-stop now, for the first time, I decided not to ignore the doctor. Now, don't get me wrong, I have the greatest respect for doctors. But they have no sense of reality. It reminded me of being very ill a few days after George was born. "Rest up completely" said the doctor. Yeah right. Because been woken up every 45 minutes in the night by a newborn is a complete break. But I decided that enough was enough and my poor body has to recover. So I took the morning off work (pretty much unheard of). I did go in at lunchtime but remembering that I was supposed to be listening to the doctor for the first time, I went home again, sat on the sofa all afternoon and watched my V-plussed Britannia High episodes - a TV programme aimed at the 12-25 age range and therefore perfect viewing. Watch this space for more relaxing first times.