Bringing up children is relentless, tedious, and occasionally, briefly, joyful – like the joy someone under police interrogation might feel when their tormentor goes to the toilet.
But when you (quite understandably) moan about your situation, you have to caveat it with “of course, I wouldn’t change it for the world” while secretly imagining changing it in favour of almost anything else: a trip to Goole in the back of a lorry, a new life in Bogotá, an hour browsing the pasta shapes in an out-of-town supermarket… anything.
If you fail to add this positive spin, however, people tend to get defensive and step in with the dreaded: “Well, nobody told you to have children in the first place.” This, of course, isn’t true, because if you are a woman,…
