“Think it's my birthday tomorrow though can't be sure. To be sure I'd have to know what day it is today. Which I don't. #sleepdeprivation :-/ "
- www.twitter.com/slc84

I’m hoping you’ll forgive me, not only for paying you very little attention and not blogging for these past few weeks, but also for the inevitable lack of amusement or wit that I fear I will have to offer you in this blog post.

(And if this is your first visit to my little blog, you should know that normally I am obviously much funnier, wittier and generally more charming than the following ramble shall demonstrate. *Obviously. ;-) )

You see even with the addition of my brand new (very, very) smart phone, (which was an early b’day pressie from Mr. C – see, told you it was my Birthday sometime soon . . . ) I have yet to master the art of juggling my life into something a little more manageable, something that isn’t whizzing by in a haze of, erm, ‘blurriness.’

I’m not very witty at the moment, I can barely string a sentence together, my vocabulary is pants (for want of a better word,) and my brain is a little bit numb. So I ought not to waste too much of your time this evening.

My third and final Bambino, baby Mason Joshua, (or MJ as he’s known to us,) is, as you’ve probably gathered, here at last! And boy was he worth the wait. I’ve recorded you guys a little vid, by way of introducing you to the new man in my life, hope you like it! (Ignore the commentary by the way, I hadn’t realised how deranged I sound when talking to him. Lol)

His arrival was, thankfully, a very speedy one. Born here at home, on Mummy and Daddy’s bed at 1:50am on Jan 13th, Mj was a respectable 9lb 4ounces, back-to-back, and yet the labour was probably the easiest of the three. (Feel free to send medals, or shoes!) The whole experience of homebirth was everything that I’d hoped for, and much more! But I won’t rave about it today, (primarily because I’m typing this entry with a teeny-tiny person balanced on my knee and can’t type one-handed) – perhaps I’ll cover it at a later date? Or perhaps you’ll have to get your mitts on a copy of my new book for all the gory details!

Of course in order to read my new book, (The Real Girls Guide to Growing a Baby,) I understand I shall have to actually finish writing it. (I don’t know who’s idea it was to write a book and grow a baby at the same time, but clearly it hasn’t gone quite to plan.) So I’m being sensible. I’m taking a little official Maternity Leave, but I shall crack straight on again in a few weeks. I’ll make the deadline. I promise.

Juggling three children, too many animals, a small business and the biggest writing project I’ve ever attempted, is no easy task, so I’m discovering. Especially when one of my babies has been knocked sideways by a bug from hell. Poor Leo, I’d never seen him look so rough; pale, skinny, dark circles under his eyes. He was unable to keep anything down, nothing at all, and subsequently several trips and overnight stays in the Childrens Ward were made last week.

It’s heartbreaking to see children poorly, but thankfully he’s fine now, our cheeky charmer. He’s back toddling around the house, chattering away in his own little language and helping himself to all the food in the fridge whenever he feels inclined. God I love him. I love them all.

Lorelei goes to theatre school now every Saturday, and she loves it! She returns with new songs to add to her repertoire of tunes that she currently belts out at the crack of dawn for all to hear, (until I yell at her and ask her to sing elsewhere,) and she struts around in high heels (that’s my girl) and various home-made costumes, speaking in an American accent and saying things like, ‘Come on Leo, teeth-brushed, bot-bot and bed. Because that is how we roll.’

I think she’s destined for stardom. That’s where she appears to be heading anyway. Either way she always shines in her Mumma’s eyes. J

So it would seem, what with Jays ambition to become a TV presenter, (is 30 too early to experience a mid-life crisis?! Haha!) that I’m the only one in this household that isn’t destined for fame. And that’s fine by me. Except that it might be a little late to suddenly declare myself the shy and retiring wall-flower-type.

I just saw an ad for our TV show and nearly wet myself. I’d sort of forgotten we were going to be on the telly. Until I just sat getting my Fairy Gok Mother Fix, as I do every Tuesday, and suddenly saw a whole bunch of people I recognise, in HD on our tv in our living room. Oh god.

The series starts next week on Channel4. That means that next week people will be able to add it to their Sky+ planners if they wish. And they’ll be able to series link it. And then people, all sorts of people, will be able to watch it. And people that I don’t even know will probably see me cry on telly. Bugger. It’s going to be like that scene from Bridget Jones, when she slides down that Fireman’s pole and knocks the cameraman out with her arse. Oh the shame.

Of course our episode isn’t on for a few weeks yet, and it’s the only one I don’t want to watch. I’ll definitely tune-in to see the experiences of our fellow contestants, we made some wonderful friends of both the other families and the villagers of Grassington, so I’m looking forward to seeing familiar faces on our screens. Yet when it comes to our own episode I’m not so keen. In fact I’d quite like to forbid family and friends from watching it, to save us from the embarrassment. Alas I know they won’t pay any attention. Naughty bunch that they all are.

Instead Jay and I have decided to throw a little Premiere party and invite a bunch of our nearest and dearest over to watch the show with us. That way, we figured, they won’t be able to poke fun at us behind our backs, and we can get the whole ordeal over and done with nice and quickly, like pulling off a plaster.

I’d love to tell you that I’ll write again before the show airs, but that’s probably not true. Not unless I receive a maid for my birthday or something. I’m just not able to find the time at the mo. But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking of you, sweet blog.

Please do keep in touch with me though. I’m a twit. That is I am a Twitterer. You know, I tweet and stuff. So you can follow me if you like? (Go on! I’ll tweet funny stuff, i promise!) and of course you can catch me on Facebook too!

I’ll be 27 by the time I blog next. So expect very mature stuff in the future ;-) Haha or perhaps not :-/

Love and best wishes to all,

Steph x

My gorgeous friends, family and followers,

I've been a tease. And for that I apologise, but you see really it was impressive that I didn't just blurt out my big secret months ago, after all, you know what I'm like with secrets. (I can't be trusted with them, because even with the best of intentions I find I develop some kind of strange form of truth-tourettes whereby I accidentally divulge all secret information with such childlike enthusiasm and spontaneity. Honestly I think I used up all my lies as a teenager.)

Anyway, it's still a little early to be letting the cat outta the bag, (not literally of course. Granted cats aren't my favourite animals, but allow me to clarify that I'd never put a cat in any bag. Ever.) Still I can't wait much longer. I'm practically bursting with impatience.

However before I put you out of your misery I'm a little anxious about something. I'm anxious that I've teased and tempted you all with my secret for so long, gradually building up the anticipation and excitement, that by the time you actually learn about our news you might find it nowhere near as exciting as you'd imagined it might be.

You might just read, shrug and then be a bit 'meh,' about the whole thing, but I sincerely hope that you won't be. I hope that you'll be equally as excited as I am, because this little snippet of news I am about to share with you could potentially change the lives of my little crew forever, and if I've ever required enthusiasm from you, my nearest and dearest, it's right now.

I don't think I would have ever had the nerve to do something like this before, before the incident at Douglas Road and before we lost our baby. Although I had much more confidence and courage back then I don't think I ever really made the most of it. It's only now that I have tasted just how precious life is that I've begun to really live it. It's not about just inhaling and exhaling every day. About going to sleep at night and waking in the morn. It's about so much more than that. It's about learning and loving, taking chances and tasting new experiences.

And boy are we about to taste a new experience.

You see . . . Can I get a drum-roll here please??

We, the Connolly Crew, are about to embark on a whole new adventure. We're going on the telly!

Wooohooooo!

(Close your mouth, you'll catch flies ;-) lol )

Yep. Next week, on Tuesday afternoon, the Connolly Crew are travelling to North Yorkshire where we shall spend 5 days being filmed by Channel 4 as contestants for a new reality TV show!!

I still can't quite believe it. But it's true. We applied months ago, along with thousands of others. We've had extensive interviews, provided tons of info and have practically shared our entire life stories with the producers of the show and then the day before we flew out on our hols we had a phone call telling us that Channel 4 had chosen us, my little family and I, to feature on the show! And when Jay called to tell me the news I actually nearly wet myself. (Well I am pregnant after all.)

So here's the concept, (as far as we know, and we really don't know a lot, it's all being kept very 'hush, hush' for the time being, which is terrifying for a gal who likes to know everything about everything . . .) - There are 14 families (and/or individuals) that have been selected to live temporarily in an idyllic village in rural Yorkshire.

Each week 2 families go head-to-head and have just 5 days to win the hearts of the community already living in the village.

Ultimately a panel of villagers will choose which family will win the prize... a mortgage-free family home.

A mortgage-free family home. The thought of which has lost me many, many hours of sleep in the last fortnight or so. A family home. An anchor of ultimate stability and security in a world that can be so bloody cruel. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm willing to bite the bullet, throw caution to the wind and possibly lose my dignity on national TV.

(Don't get me wrong, I don't intend on doing anything outrageous or silly, it's just that it doesn't take a lot for me to lose my dignity, I embarrass myself on a very regular basis whether I intend to or not! :-/)

Of course Jay and I have questioned why our little family, out of thousands of others, was chosen for this. I mean we can only hope it was for our dazzling personalities, amazing charisma and complete gorgeousness. And not because we come across as slightly insane, loopy or otherwise freakishly entertaining. Because, just for the record, we really are a very normal family. Okay, okay, so 'normal' isn't quite the right word . . . but you know what I mean.

It's not like we tried to be all mad and extrovert and stuff. There was no nudity involved at all in our application process, like you always see on Big Brother audition tapes. We haven't told any porky pies or claimed to be all opinionated and controversial. We don't have any unusual hobbies or beliefs... still they seem to think we're worthy of a whole hours of prime-time channel 4 footage, and who can argue with that?!

Tomorrow we are being visited by the director. He's going to film us for our VT thingymajik, (you know, where they film us standing outside our gaff pulling stupid faces whilst the voice over introduces us, and then the viewers get to see us doing 'normal' stuff like washing up and yelling at the dog and stuff.) - I have coordinated our outfits with military precision and more thought than I gave to my wedding dress. I have already blow-dried my hair (which is silly really as I'll just have to do it again in the morning anyway) moisturised from top to toe, given myself a pedicure (well I don't know how close the camera's gonna get?) and have cleaned the house with much more gusto than usual.

I hadn't really intended on making my television debut looking like I've just swallowed a bowling ball, but hey-ho. Actually I'd never intended on being on the telly full stop, that's more Jay's cuppa than mine, (Don't tell him I told you, but secretly he's always dreamt of being the 6th member of Westlife, touring the world and living in the limelight ;-) Bless his cottons.) But not me. I've never been fame-hungry.

As far as I can tell, (from all my research of reading the glossies and magazines like, 'Heat' and 'Now' and the like,) fame comes hand in hand with judgement. And I don't like to be judged. That is, I don't like to be disliked and you can't be liked by everyone can you?

Well fortunately it's highly doubtful that this little stint on TV will suddenly catapult any of us into the land of the A listers, which is why I'm being so brave, still I cannot help but be a little nervous.

Never before have our characters been tested to such a degree. Never before has it really mattered what others think of us. Never before has the fate of my family been in the hands of the residents of a village up north. And never before have I cared so much.

I feel a bit vulnerable about it, I just know I'll cry if the residents of the village, for whatever reason, take a disliking to us. (*Must remember to buy waterproof mascara.) Still I'm taking the chance because you only live once, right? (unless you're a cat . . . ) And it is my duty as a Mumma to provide the very best for my children, and in my book the two most important things I need to give my babies? Love and stability.

My little Lorelei, in her 6 years on this planet, has lived in 11 different homes. Eleven. How crap is that? And I swore I'd provide stability for her, because I knew just how important it would be. Yet circumstances always seem to get in the way of our aspirations.

So here's our chance to grab a slither of security with both hands. To raise our children somewhere safe, in a community where people still talk to one another, in a home that is ours forever. To be honest, there's not much I wouldn't do for that.

I don't know what to expect. Not really. In Steph land Yorkshire is beautiful. Everyone eats Yorkshire puddings everyday (yum) and drinks Yorkshire Tea. Every one owns Yorkshire terriors and walks them on the Yorkshire Moors (or is it Dales?! Oh dear, must learn the difference.) People say 'By gum' and 'Ey-Up' to one another. Everyone wears tweed, (*Must also remember to pack tweed flat-cap.) and when the women aren't baking cakes and making jam with the WI they're getting their kit off and raising money for charity (a la 'Calendar Girls') – I hope real Yorkshire is just as nice as it is in Steph land.

So there ya go, our big news! Hope it didn't disappoint. The show won't be aired til early next year, ((as far as I know) and by then the wriggly little person living in my tummy will be here!) so keep a look out for us won't you?!

Wish us luck! (Here's hoping I don't embarrass myself too much! lol)

Love to all

Steph x x x