I can't do it. Every fibre of my very British personality is telling me 'Keep quiet. What on earth are you thinking of, considering a post about this? Are you absolutely crazy? People will think you're proud of yourself or something. And we can't have that! (Oh god, she's going to anyway. Clearly been spending far too much time with that Continental type she married...)'
But I can't keep quiet. I have to tell you that I came out number 11 in the recent survey of Top 100 British Parent Blogs and Bloggers'.
Of course, I'm a natural pessimist, so in reality this list is a double edged sword. It's not a one-off, you see. They're going to update it 'regularly'. What does that mean, 'regularly'? In my darker moments I see myself becoming a slave to The List. 'I went down a place. Why did I go down a place (or two, or three, or ten or fifty?) What went wrong? Why does no-one love me anymore?'
Still, that's all to come, and for now I'm at 11. And I'm thrilled. And for all you stiff upper lipped English types out there, sorry. This was a temporary aberration - I promise not to mention it again...