I am sitting in a circle in an east London library with my two-year-old son singing, “I see you! I see you and your little tiny nose! Peekaboo!” We are a group of 15 mothers and toddlers and we have to sing this to every child, so it’s really going on a bit. I am wondering if any other women in the room (yup, no men here) are finding this as tedious as I am.
Next day I am in Boom Bang Bees at my local community centre, sipping from a pretend cup of tea at a plastic kitchen station that my son is particularly obsessed with. By the tenth cup I am quietly in despair. Just three months before my life had been quite
