Mum On The Run

It’s incredibly heartening to glance around and see that you’re running alongside people of all shapes and ages, and realise that some are going to be worse than you.

There’s a blast of horns, and I’m off, no longer feeling alone but jammed in amongst too many runners, all trying to find their own space.

He pauses, and my heart plummets as I steel myself for being dismissed as an embarrassment.

Lists are good. They make you feel like you’re in control,

Suddenly, they’re the ones everyone takes photos of. Which is understandable, given the sleep-deprived general knackeredness of the parents and the cuteness of the children. I mean, they’re far more photogenic than we are.’

I might have gained two pounds since last week, but I still float home feeling as light and breezy as dandelion fluff.

The sky is searingly blue, and the park hums with office workers enjoying the sunshine.

‘I’ve done it for so long, and things just become habitual, don’t they? And you stop considering if it’s really what you want.’

Our house has a talent for swallowing up ordinary things: plasters, Sellotape, working pens.

I have the sex life of a nun without the benefit of being able to drift around a quiet building all day.