Like many of my friends starting a family in their thirties, I embarked on the journey with the unshakable confidence of a woman with her own income, a challenging job, a great relationship and an indepth knowledge of city chic life. Until, of course, my little bundle of joy arrived with his own ideas. Jack is now three and I’ve acquired the blasé attitude of a mummy whose child eats his own food and can’t remember the last time he wore a nappy.