My big fear in uprooting Sarah, our nearly-two-year-old daughter, from Ireland and bringing her to the south of France was that she would miss her family dreadfully or even completely forget them.

While she hasn't forgotten anyone - I keep sitting her down with the photos and demanding the names of key people - she does indeed miss them, hugely.

When we first arrived, she refused to talk at all about the people we left behind. She would look into the middle distance as I asked if she missed Grandad or her friend Lizzy. I persisted, explaining they were still there and that they could come in a plane to see her. My husband and I talked about them a lot in front of her, too. She came round gradually, and now talks away about where they are, what time they go to sleep, how much they love her . . .

Sarah does realise she is in a different country, and she loves her new home - the sun shines three days in four, we have a huge garden with a squirrel, jays, a hawk and lately a cuckoo, and she gets to be with us almost more than she wants! When we ask if she'd rather be here or in her old house, she opts for here.

For my part, I hate that people who love her dearly are missing out on seeing her grow. It is only three months since we left Ireland. She was 20 months old when we arrived and in these months she has gone from single words to full sentences, and with nobody but us here to coo. And Sarah's not much on the telephone.

Still, at least we are getting to see her grow. That's why we came, to break out of the creche-homesleep-creche cycle. Faced with the prospect of missing her infant years while we slogged away paying childcare and the mortgage, we went looking for other options.

The plan (and for now at least it is working) is to weave our work around our family life. If it is quiet, we work in Sarah's down-time - when she is in playgroup, when she sleeps in the afternoon and after she's in bed at night. If necessary, one of us will work while the other looks after her. We are both journalists, and we can do a surprising variety of jobs without visiting an office every day.

As I type, Sarah is asleep in her cot. An entire newspaper supplement is hurtling down an ISDN line to Dublin on the No 1 computer, beside me.

The day went like this: I worked in the early hours during a convenient bout of insomnia, and again this morning while Sarah was in playgroup; after lunch my husband had a French lesson while Sarah slept and I did housework; then we all visited some friends for an aperitif; we ate out on the way home, then drove round to the local leisure park to check out the lake for sailing next weekend; we started work again at 9 p.m. after the child went to bed.

It was a hugely satisfying day: a lot of work got done, no time got wasted, and nobody got stressed about traffic.

Playgroup costs 12 francs an hour - about £1.50. I spend £10 to £15 per week on good, child-centred care, three mornings a week. In Dublin I spent £90 a week on childcare - I paid for a full week even though I used just two-and-a-half days.

Yes, Sarah is missing out on the company of her family. But we have a big house, and the south of France isn't quite Serbia, so we hope they will come to stay in great numbers.

On balance, we feel we have made a good choice.