My relationship with my daughter is incredibly strong, if I say so myself. Saturday and Sunday evenings we were laying on my bed watching X Factor and the rather awful Simon Cowell. She had actually told me on Sunday to get into my PJs since she was already suitably attired for bed.

My "PJs" that night was a sleep T-shirt, the closest to a nightie mother will tolerate. I have three of them, worn in rotation. Anyway I did what I was told (how can you refuse a nine year old?) before joining her for a cuddle. Once again I have to worry how anyone could abuse her, or even not give her affection?

However, on Saturday evening I was almost (I jest) capable some heinous crime. I had collected my new glasses that lunchtime, the same time as getting her eyes tested. She asked for a tickling session before X Factor started, I ended up with her knee in my eye as a reward for a seriously vicious assault on her waist. I've just left the opticians having asked the nice man to straighten them. The same nice man who'd issued the almost £300 pair five days ago. For UK readers - yes I did go to Specsavers, my eyes are awful.

Anyway, on Monday my daughter and I took an almost three hour train ride to the next county. It sounds like a long way or a slow train but neither is true - the River Thames gets in the way.

We met with the Social Worker and, after agreeing a schedule I left the two of them for their tete-a-tete. Two hours later I collected my daughter from her mother and the ex mother-in-law. The SW had stayed there throughout.

One thing that was obvious was that there was little or no physical contact between my daughter and her mother, or nan. The only contact I saw was a quick kiss as we left the ex and ex m-i-l.

My daughter had a tear in her eye as she walked away and I wondered how she was taking it. I needn't have worried though, once she dried her eye she brightened up and started telling me all the gossip she'd heard that lunchtime. The SW accompanied us almost back to the station and we discussed my son and the remaining items prior to the court hearing two weeks from now.

The train journey back was quicker than the morning by 20 minutes, thanks to some fancy footwork at Stratford (the home of the 2012 Olympics) so we could make an 'impossible' connection.

All the way back she chatted, cuddled, or both. She talked about her aunt (the ex's younger sister), her nan and several friends. She barely mentioned her mother, apart from a comment about the dog, which had gone to a rescue centre. They had gained the dog about a year ago when my son had brought it home.

I wrote an angry letter to my son's school at the weekend, the Head should have received it yesterday. At the time my son had still not started back at school, I also don't know whether I will be able to meet anyone from the school on Friday.

Moving things up a gear, yesterday I called the Local Education Authority and asked them if they could appoint a home tutor for him. I had a call this morning from a lady at the LEA saying that my son starts school tomorrow. Strange that.

Topsy