KEEP RUNNING, MUMMY!
Blink and he’ll be starting school.” My son was six weeks old. Tiny and snug in his oversized snowsuit. He was screaming (it felt like he was always screaming.) We were in the supermarket and the words floated into my ear from a cooing passerby, as I attempted to sift through my brain – fuzzy with sleep deprivation – to remember what I had gone in there for in the first place.