My potential for casually putting together a nutritious meal in a kitchen bedecked with fairy lights that Nigella would be proud of whilst nonchalently typing on my laptop, nosedived when one child turned into two.
That was when the word 'struggle' seemed to feature prominently in my life. I am a struggling writer, illustrator and domestic goddess and therefore struggle to fit everything into each day. What I do not struggle with is finding humour and laughter in all trials and tribulations.
For example, when pulling out a tray of chips that, once again, were incinerated on one side and raw on the other, after they had romped through an hour of electricity I had a brainwave. Now I blitz the buggers in a microwave in little bursts til soft then pop them in the oven for the duration that it takes to cook a pizza - genius.
No anxious, long wait wondering if they will ever cook imagining our hard earned pounds flying off to the electricity provider. No struggling with toddler who is drawn to oven like moth to a flame, whilst my little girl wails about being hungry! Deep joy for little things.