Youth is when you're allowed to stay up late on New Year's Eve. Middle age is when you're forced to.

2006 was a pretty big year. Despite having the same number of days as many other years, we seem to have squeezed rather a lot into it. Lorna and I have tried to start a tradition of climbing a hill overlooking Edinburgh and doing a review of the year - a bit like they do on telly except without so many competing egos.

It was the year Christopher was born, of course, but also the year Daniel Stark rolled a six and was allowed to be born too. We lost Gran Carson, but not before she got to meet her great grandson. Thomas was born safely in Cambridge, and is keen to remind Diane of this fact every morning at 2am... We bought a car, and a motorbike, and finally got round to decorating the house. And buying a shed. Dad only moved house twice last year, and introduced us to Donna, while Gill introduced us in turn to Gary. Jimmy got his pacemaker fitted allowing him to climb stairs again, forcing Jess to hide the chocolate biscuits somewhere other than on top of the cupboard. Lorna spent 9 months out of work, lounging around and flitting from one baby-related social event to the next. Bill, Dale, Jamie and Eliza made the trek from "down under" to "up over" during the summer, enjoying a range of events from standing in rain in Bo'ness to queuing for chips in Anstruther watching England's exit from the World Cup.

If 2007 is even half as eventful we will be knackered by 2008. Along those lines, who says the French have no sense of humour?

We had a great Christmas and New Year, finding the balance of family gatherings and quiet reflection to our taste. Kit spent the two week holiday mastering clapping, waving and crawling. Luckily he announces when he is about to crawl with a gasp of excitement and a squeal of anticipation; this makes it easier to keep him away from wires and fires. It won't last, however, so baby-proofing the house will be an early job for the year. He has already found the video player slot so it won't be long before we find jam sandwiches in there. Speaking of which he is also taking tentative steps towards "finger foods" - this is where he takes a piece of toast and rubs it all over his face then drops it on the floor to gasps of admiration and pride from his mother.

And so...Lorna goes back to work on Thursday! Is she looking forward to it? Well, yes, sort of, she enjoys her job and is looking forward to getting back into it. But it also means Kit starts nursery too - gulp. He had a half day trial on Monday and loved it, squealing with delight at the sight of the other babies. His daily report card (yes, really) announced that "Christopher has had great fun playing with the rattles and the soft bricks". Hmm. Well, I want him potty trained by 15 months, please.

We have booked Applecross for a couple of nights this Easter, but they have put their prices up to "who are you trying to kid" levels, so return visits will have to be curtailed for the sake of food and electricity.