In some ways, I think that I am very instinctually maternal. I never felt anxious about having kids, I wear them, I am fine with co sleeping, I make their food from scratch. I tell them I love them a million times a day, I stay home with them day in, day out. Nothing special – nothing that other mums aren’t doing. I know when they need to sleep, to eat, I know what Evie’s nonsensical words mean.

On the flip side, I get sick of sharing my bed, my back aches from baby wearing, and I resent hearing ‘MUM MUM MUM’ shouted at me all the time, for no apparent reason. When Chris goes to work, I get genuinely cranky that I am being left to deal with the monotonous lifestyle of having two under two – but when I think about daycare, I get genuinely anxious about having Evie go away for the day with strangers. Am I mad?

Parenting is like labour – once is starts, it seems endless.

Mums, or dads who are the primary caregivers, are magical creatures honestly. Having two kids so close together means that there is no respite from the complete dependence on me. The relentlessness of having a very independent, vocal one year old who I sometimes wish would just sit and read a book, and a baby who is pretty happy as long as his skin is touching mine at all times is hard. While Hunter is teething, and learning to roll and wanting to be held all the time, Evie is going through huge developmental leaps of learning words, learning to climb (on really fucking high things), and toilet training – it’s all so exhausting. But as I wish for them to fall asleep at night-time, as soon as they do I’m checking on them, scrolling through pictures of them, and wanting to sniff their little sweaty necks again.

One second I’m like ‘HOLY SHIT PLEASE STOP SHOUTING AT ME AND JUST PUT YOUR SHOES ON AND LET ME PUT YOU DOWN FOR ONE SECOND OK GAWDDDD’

And then the next I’m like ‘OMG YOU’RE SO CUTE AND SMART AND LOVELY AND LEMME JUST HAVE DEM CHEEKS!’

Because parenting, is just a huge freaking back flip of emotions isn’t it? Anyway, gotta go, I’ve typed this entire ramble with one hand while rocking the teething one to sleep and I’ve just looked up to see Evie has removed her knickers (that she had peed in a little) and has dipped them into my fresh cup of tea and is mopping/cleaning the table with it. Not even exaggerating.