I remember the days when I used to think I was tired if I didn’t get my full nine hours kip a night.
Nowadays, with a one-year-old at home, I count my blessings if I manage five hours uninterrupted.
At least lack of sleep is something every new mother is warned about, but there are a multitude of horrors no one tells you of.
I envisaged mornings going something like this: baby would gently stir for a feed at 7 a.m. before going back to sleep until 8 a.m., allowing me to shower, dress and prepare breakfast. After eating, we’d walk the dog to nursery at a leisurely pace then say a cheerful goodbye before I head to work.
Reality goes a little like this: 4.30 a.m. awoken by screeching so loud your ears hurt.
Attend to baby, desperately trying to get him back to sleep before giving up at 5.30 a.m. and bringing him into our bed.
Awake at 6 a.m. with a kick to the head and baby’s fingers up your nose so decide to get up for the day.
Shower while a baby repeatedly tries to get in the shower with you. Dry baby off and throw now soaking clothes in the washing bin.
Attempt to apply make up as baby clambers up your leg. After getting eye liner on your forehead, decide to go au naturel.
Prepare breakfast – watch as baby tries to feed himself. Make a mental note to clean porridge from the wall after work.
Race the dog round to nursery and hand over a screaming child.
Zip over to the office to be at the desk for 9 a.m. ready for the most relaxing part of your day.
At 9.03 a.m. realise you have banana in your hair, porridge on your shirt and odd shoes on.
Motherhood - it’s hard work, but it’s the best job I’ve had.