Rachel, Owen and Kathryn

One of the great advantages life in Manchester has over London is the speed at which you can reach the countryside. Having promised Katy a trip to see some pigs on Saturday, we discovered our local 'city farm' is closed for the foreseeable. Time for Plan B. In about 45 minutes drive (ideal nap time) we found ourselves in deepest Cheshire at the Cotebrook Shire Horse Centre , where they have not only shire horses (and foals), but pigs, rabbits (galore), otters, a barn owl, a buzzard and a fox - trying to sleep in his box despite gawping visitors who are invited to switch a light on to view the poor creature! There was also a flock of black sheep, which pleased Katy no end. I think most parents frequently ask their children "What noise does a cat/dog/duck-billed platypus make?" but Katy turned the tables on me yesterday. She was repeatedly making a sound I couldn't identify with any particular animal, and when I said "That's a funny noise, who makes that n

My driving instructor used to call me ‘fearless Rach’ (possibly something to do with my habit of not stopping at roundabouts) and it seems my daughter is similarly reckless. The other day we went out to feed the ducks – although the ducks were rather outnumbered by screeching seagulls and Canada geese, plus a pair of swans. The arrival of humans bearing food prompted a rush to land of enthusiastic webbed feet. Far from being fazed by this, Katy had an eyeball-to-eyeball encounter with a goose, attempted to stroke it, and then started feeding it from her hand. I did check and she had all ten digits when we went home. Subsequently I found a book in the library about an outing to feed the ducks, which has become an instant favourite.

Nearly 18 months and very keen to assert her independence, no is Katy’s current favourite word. She alternately goes on food strike or eats 3 yoghurts at a time, and has started playing the ‘let’s embarrass mum by going completely stiff and refusing to get in the buggy’ game. I thought that wasn’t supposed to start until the ‘terrible twos’! Mind you, these parenting manuals are a load of contradictory rubbish: they tell you toddlers have no memory and will have to be told over and over again not to do certain things. Katy approaches the forbidden cat litter trays saying ‘no, no’ to herself. She’s also caused some confusion at nursery by repeating a different kind of ‘no, no’ as she quotes the little pig refusing entry to the big bad wolf. My excitement at discovering she can now pay attention to a longer story has since waned as the tale of the Three Little Pigs has become a compulsory bedtime (and morning, and afternoon) story. At least she gets two different versions of it, one fro