I vaguely remember that once I used to write up marvellous cooking experiences here. I also documented Bernard’s early adventures into the world of solid food with painstaking detail. I feel so ashamed that tonight, the boy is feasting on fishcakes, sweetcorn, and microwave chips; and Pete and I will later be enjoying a home-made pizza (Not as thrilling as it may sound: we do this pretty much every week).

I could blame general tiredness and lack of free time, but really, there is time to cook. There is less opportunity to shop, but surely that’s just a question of getting organised. I have more recipe books than is strictly necessary, considering I never open them.

I could blame my unsatisfactorily small kitchen, and the fact that when I do spend any time in there cooking, I usually have a child clinging to my knee or fiddling with the egg timer until it breaks. Since he was born, we have had three new kitchen timers.

I suspect it is pure laziness and some sort of lack of motivation. On the whole, we have a balanced diet; just not particularly varied. Should try harder.

It’s a year since I took my first breastfeeding class. I came home buzzing that night, and very highly motivated to finish my training so that I could start teaching on a regular basis. I qualified as a Breastfeeding Counsellor back in June, and since then I’ve been teaching two or three classes a week. Last week, there were four.

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