I'll give you the heads up.

If you don't insert the smoke detector battery correctly the smoke detector will let off a series of beeps at intervals of approximately 3.5 to 7 minutes.

It will not do this immediately having been changed. No. That would be far too convenient. It will wait. For hours. Sometimes days. Who knows. Whenever it is, it will make sure that there is nobody tall enough to fix it in the house at the time said beeping commences.

So I heard it go off. And my first instinct was to do what I always do when it goes off, and I grabbed a tea towel, went into the foyer and started fanning it.

And then I realised. There was no smoke.

Fabulous.

And so I did what every short person in the world does. I got a chair and stood on it, reaching madly for the ceiling, knowing full well that last time I did that I couldn't reach it, and then questioning myself as to why I thought that I may have grown an extra 6 inches or so in the last 6 months.

So down I hopped. And looked up. And sighed.

And then I went back into the kitchen, hung up the tea towel, became distracted by goodness knows what and then approximately 4 minutes later it went off again. Two beeps. Enough to make me deer in headlights it. Then it stopped. So I relaxed. And then it beeped again. Three times.

So I did what I usually do, and grabbed the tea towel, hightailed it into the foyer, and started madly waggling the tea towel in the air.

Woah. Déjà vu.

No. Smoke.

So then I said it out loud, as if that would then reaffirm in my mind that there was, in fact, no smoke. Which there wasn't. There was a teeny tiny moth. And I don't like moths at all. But that's another story. But with regards to the smoke, there was, actually, no smoke.

Smoke detector. Go home. You're drunk.

And so I decided I would look at the old battery. The one that had been removed from the smoke detector to be replaced with the new, improved, apparently malfunctioning battery.

It was bent. The little prong things on the battery were bent. My heart just about stopped. What if this meant that the smoke detector was broken. Like on the inside. And what if it meant that even if I DID manage to prise the mongrel battery out of the smoke detector, it STILL went off? I didn't even know if that was possible but I was going through all sorts of scenarios when the smoke detector started beeping again. Wherein I said to it "Stop. Stop doing that." and waggled my arms around like someone who has just walked into a spiderweb.

Seriously. The night was not going well.

So I drew out the big guns. I texted my friend and asked to borrow her husband.

Then I went and got a chair, put it underneath the bastard randomly screaming smoke detector, and stood there looking at it, clutching my phone in one hand and the bent old battery in the other, willing the smoke detector not to go off again, and when it did nearly fell off the chair and recommenced telling the smoke detector to stop it.

When my friend's husband arrived, ladder in hand (and Woolies stickers in his pocket, thanks very much to his gorgeous wife), he was as welcome as a souvlaki after a big night out.

Battery was ill-inserted it would seem. Problem solved. Thanks very much. And I really mean that. I owe you a bottle of wine……

So the air is now quiet. No beeps. No squawks from children (who went to bed nearly 1.5 hours later than usual due to the outing this evening, about which I haven't spoken but I daresay I may at some stage in the very near future).

Calm.

So calm that I am able to become acutely aware of the fact that tomorrow my darling Miss 4 becomes Miss 5.

The time does fly. Except when there is a malfunctioning smoke detector. Then my God does it drag. In case you wondered….

Did you hear me just whistle?

"No" I replied to Master 3.

"Cos I heard a whistling sound."

This was perhaps the 8 or 9th time he had emerged from his room following being put to bed for the night.

There is always something.

"Mum?"

"Yes darling."

"I have to tell you something."

Which is when I mutter under my breath something unintelligible which even if it was intelligible would not be fit for this merry forum.

And so in I go.

"What is it baby?" smiling sweetly over gritted teeth.

"I…..need……some……water."

"I beg your pardon."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease."

This routine could go on in an infinite loop if let go.

Oh yes. Bedtime is fabulous.

The night before last Master 3 came out of his room.

"I heard a tram."

"A tram?"

"Yes. A tram. In my room."

"Darling, I can pretty much guarantee that what you heard in your room was most definitely not a tram."

"Oh. It sounded like a tram."

Go. To. Bed.

If asked to describe the last few months I would say "Challenging" is as good a word as any that doesn't utilise cuss words.

Master 3 has, I believe, received a lovely natural injection of testosterone which has made his usually exuberant personality more akin to what you would imagine would be the effects of injecting a rabbit with ADHD with speed. Or something like that.

He still hasn't stopped talking. If anything he has gotten worse. Because now he is talking to random people. Just for the hell of it. That, my friends, is not a comforting thing at all.

Sitting in the car the other day and I had just put everyone's seat belts on and was just about to close my door when I heard "Hi fella!!!!!" screamed from the back seat.

"Who are you talking to baby?" I asked.

"Him. That bloke over there. I didn't know his name so I just called him fella."

Righto then.

Miss 6 is going on 16. She has now lost 7 teeth. And I do believe she would quite happily rip out every single tooth in her mouth because she loves the tooth fairy. She loves all fairies actually. She recently made a fairy door and stuck it to her wall and then wrote letters to the fairy and left them out for her.

So of course I did the dutiful mum thing and wrote a note in teeny tiny writing in response. What I didn't anticipate was that the time of arising for Miss 6 is anything from 5 to 6 o'clock, and she bounded in, at whatever the hell time it was, to excitedly tell me all about the note she had received from her fairy "Anastasia".

Sometimes I really don't think things through.

Tis hard to believe my eldest baby is halfway through grade one now. The time is flying. She is getting taller by the day. Pretty soon she will pass me and I'll shrink below. I think they will all be taller than me actually.

She is still quite melodramatic and that, too, is increasing as her age and height increases….

"I'm scared of the dark."

"Why are you scared of the dark baby? There's nothing to be afraid of, it's just the same as daytime only darker" (oh yes, way to go mum, convincing argument there. Give me a break I don't sleep much.)

"Well, there are bats out there you know. There are owls out there. There are terrifying creatures out there. It is daaaaaaaangerous."

Sometimes I just have nothing. No words. I just wait to see if there is any more, and if there isn't, I leave a decent enough gap and change the topic.

Miss 4 is now nearly Miss 5. Tuesday is the day. And she has been amazing me constantly for the last few months, and forever really. Well, her forever, since she came into life. I didn't know her before then obviously. Although having gestational diabetes while pregnant with her she really wasn't my most favourite person while she was in utero.

But I digress.

She is still a smart little cookie. Looking at a picture the other day I asked her if it was sunny or if it was raining. Her answer? It is raining. Well, there was a clear picture of a sun and no rain in sight, so I corrected her and said no, it is sunny.

And her next answer? Well there is a rainbow so the rain has obviously only just finished.

Yep.

Her drawing has come in leaps and bounds too. She colours in better than I do, and has a beautiful way of drawing people and things in general. She will adore school and can't wait to go.

In general though, my babies are doing really well, and still saying random hilarious things to cheer me up. They have tried a few new foods "I liked it but can you please never give that to me again." Okay then.

The conversations in the car can range from "I don't remember what I did today" to "Did you know that jellyfish are actually called sea jellies?" to "I've never been inside a killer whale." No. I expect you haven't.

I still adore the lost in translation scenarios too. Many of my friends will know I often call girls "chickadee". I had to laugh when I heard one of the kids call the other "chicken bee".

Master 3 came out loudly declaring that there was a genius in his room and that it was coming for him. Miss 4 followed.

"The geniuses are after us!!!!"

I was enthralled. I had to find out.

"Baby, what's a genius?"

"You know, those big things, and they give you wishes."

"Genie. That's a genie baby."

"Aaaaaaaaagh the genies are coming for us!!!"

Life is never dull.

I have actually appreciated the time away. It did actually make me realise that I kind of enjoy this little blog. But I don't "need" it. And I needed to know that I didn't need it. Which I now do.

I shall leave you with the best thing I heard all day. It was spurred upon by a post I was looking at which read as follows:

"Work like you don't need the money
Love like you've never been hurt
And dance like no one is watching"

Miss 6….. "Work like you don't need the monkeys?? I don't get it."

Gotta love them. And that I do. Immensely.