For supermum Naomi Codling, real fulfilment arrived in the shape of two small bundles

It was not that Naomi's life had lacked meaning prior to the birth of her twin daughters, Ceridwen and Ariadne. No, as she hastened to assure her friends, the marketing departments of West End costume-jewellery firms don't run themselves; and neither does the social committee of the Kensington & Chelsea Conservative Association.

But real fulfilment, when it came, arrived with astonishing force – almost, as she put it, "like a slap in the face" – in the shape of the two small bundles gathered to her chest that morning in the delivery room in Queen Charlotte's. She resigned from the jewellery firm on the spot, forgot about the Kensington & Chelsea Conservative Association, and decided to devote herself to motherhood.

The important thing, she decided, having followed a number of Mumsnet discussion forums and read an interesting book entitled Mapping the Infant Mind, was to encourage the development of the children's imagination. Naturally, this task could be undertaken only by a mother. Hard words were exchanged with Felicity, her best friend from college, who went back to work three months after giving birth, leaving little Rufus to the care of a day nursery in the Fulham Road – even now, this once-inseparable pair are not on speaking terms. "Of course, it's all very nice," Naomi has been heard to say, "but they don't really talk to the children. I wouldn't dream of saying so, but I think Flicka is being the teeniest bit selfish."

Ceridwen and Ariadne, meanwhile, were being introduced to the delights of cranial osteopathy and baby yoga, while Gavin – Mr Codling, the model of an indulgent husband, who had single-handedly converted the second spare bedroom into a nursery – was ordered to reconvert the nursery along the lines suggested by another very interesting book called Nurturing the Super-Baby, with brightly coloured mobiles and a sound system capable of piping in whale noises.

Four years have passed since that auspicious morning in Queen Charlotte's. How are the twins faring? They are affectionate, intelligent children, upon whose heads stimulating activities (beginners' French classes, musical movement sessions) descend like confetti at a wedding; but, it must be said, they are somewhat crotchety. Just lately, Naomi has fallen into the habit of letting them watch TV in the evenings as she looks through job ads in Marketing Week. It is all very strange.