Not always a jolly holiday

Before having Mollie I had this vision of myself as an uber mum - a modern-day Mary Poppins who sang, played games and was practically perfect in every way.

In wilder fantasies I even used terry towelling nappies and grew my own veg.

Five weeks in, the reality has hit home. If I can remember all the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, it's a good day.

I'm left feeling vaguely guilty and a bit of a failure.

Two things make it all better again: Mollie's smile (and it is a smile, not wind) which instantly makes me feel like a superstar.

And other mums. A five-minute conversation with someone else who's tired and thinks they're doing everything wrong too is the best medicine of all. It makes you realise that there are no uber mums out there and, if there are, they've probably got a nanny.