Monday
Juggling a family of four children, aged nine, eight, four and three, and running a children's theatre company is not just a job - it's a hectic but fun way of life.
I'm a qualified NNEB and my work enables me to combine my childcare skills with a love of drama.
As usual, my day starts with the school run and then, accompanied by my two younger children, I prepare for an afternoon class.
My two colleagues, also NNEBs, and I run 'First Stage' drama sessions for two- to four-year-olds and workshops for four- to 11-year-olds who perform three shows a year. We also run holiday workshops.
I prefer to employ staff with childcare qualifications. Their understanding of child development means they can realistically challenge children and are not taken aback if a child bursts into tears or has a toilet accident.
The village hall is soon heaving with 22 First Stage children, assorted parents, nannies, grandmas and five baby siblings. The class starts with action songs and once everyone has warmed up we introduce ourselves, helping develop the children's confidence and social skills. They're adept at miming expressions and have fun practising their happy, sad and sleepy faces before galloping around the hall. The session ends with us marching on stage and taking a bow.
Tuesday
This morning's First Stage class is newer, smaller and quieter. There's a special moment when a boy with delayed speech shouts his name on stage for the first time. A few children with speech problems attend the classes. We work on enunciation and seeing everyone enjoying speech work helps those with problems. An expectant silence falls as everyone waits to see which story character appears out of the bag - it's Bob the Builder and he joins in a listening skills game.
After my children's gym class I get home in time to pick up phone messages, make a packed tea and load the car for our theatre workshop where 26 four- to ten-year-olds will continue rehearsing for a performance in four weeks'
time.
We're putting on 'A Cloud in Space', a musical play I wrote myself. We run two scenes and three musical numbers - no-one knows their lines or songs well enough yet, but I feel a show lurking within the cast at last.
Wednesday
I go shopping with my younger children for spare costume items. Back at home, I order props from a catalogue. The creative skills I developed while working as a nanny come in useful as I make silver antennae from tin foil and staple them to alien masks.
There's always a buzz on the build- up to a performance. The children's ability to express themselves, co-operation skills and confidence all grow as they focus on the production.
I spend time with my children before dinner. But then the telephone rings and a mother informs me that her daughter won't be able to make one of the performances. This is a major crisis as the child has a leading role. I then have to spend the evening recasting lines.
Thursday
An early start means most of a script written for our next holiday workshop before anyone awakes. After the school run the day is given to writing letters, giving performance details and requesting audience numbers. I also prepare workshop and new term information for our mailing list. I'm interrupted by a call from the hall committee - a complaint that I didn't put away two chairs and sweep up some crumbs. I try not to be too annoyed.
I often clear up after other users, it's a hazard of sharing a hall. My front-of-house manager calls to say she's looking forward to performance day and that cheers me up.
Friday
I tackle a month's food shopping with my younger children and, after school, take the older ones to dance class. While they are dancing I write up notes for the extra staff coming in on performance day.
That night I plan the after-show parties. After the applause and acclaim the children seem to grow ten feet and the parties are always fun; everyone is high on excitement.
Seeing how hard the children work at learning their lines, the songs and dances is incredibly rewarding. The show takes over all the performers and it is wonderful to know it's an experience they'll never forget.
