My eldest will be 11 this week. We're having a Karaoke and mini-Glastonbury in the back garden.
Time has simply sped by since that stressful day in June 2008 - couped up in a windowless room in a sweltering hospital, a fire alarm, emergency c-section and then being handed this little thing and told to dress it by a pair of hardened Hackney nurses made me vow that I'd never put my unconscious wife or myself through that again.
Funny how difficult memories subside because the pure joy of our little girl meant we forgot about all the shit stuff and then number 2 turned up a couple of years later and he'll be 9 soon.
It's been amazing to see them grow from useless bundles of joy into strong willed, funny, amazing little people. We've still got many ups and downs to come, I'm sure, but I wouldn't change them for anything.
My brother (couple of years younger) and his missus don't want kids. Always going on bloody holiday, or on nights out, what a social life they lead! My Mum, despondently announced one day "they're having the bath taken out and are having a walk in shower fitted", finally accepting that they weren't interested in parenthood. Good on them and good luck to them, I say. I can perfectly understand their reasoning. I just hope that they don't regret it once it's too late, my Sister-In-Law is great with my kids and would make a great Mum, I'm sure.