I try embracing all my wobbly bits as a rule but there comes a time post birth when I think that the mum-tum and bum have to go. When I get an idea I have to do it yesterday. In about three point six minutes I have jumped on the phone, found a local gym with a crche and decided I will not only join, but go everyday – starting with the 9.30 am step class tomorrow.

I get up and rummage through my clothes heap for some foxy gym attire whilst breastfeeding my one and a half year old Mr. Bean and playing princesses with my four year old Princess Pea. I am not as spunky as I hoped in my gym rig (flared leggings with mum-tum hanging over the top complete with a tight singlet with huge milky in two bras as scaffolding) BUT I will be hot.. soon.

I face the monsoon that Bean throws at me with as much gentle parenting as a goat with hemorrhoids. I manage to jostle his extremely soiled nappy off him despite the hurricane that is where his legs should be. Pretty soon I am covered in what appears to be a not very well digested mixture of sultanas and I am not sure what else and have to resort to even tighter singlet.

Bean on the breast again and using the calm voice (which always means I am about to scream or burst into tears) I ask the Pea to please help me out by getting in the car. She transforms herself into a rainbow of sparkles, tulle and hair clips and flounces around in vague circles. I take a deep breath and explain that we are late for the really fun crche adventure and try to direct her pirouetting to the car.

Behind the wheel and children reluctantly restrained I wipe a couple of tears away and tell myself I can do this. I arrive at the gym just in the knickers of time and manage to get the kids to stay with the dodgy crche lady and find a step not too close to the front.

About five minutes into the class I am feeling fantastic, mentally patting myself on the back for making it. About ten minutes into the class I am totally lost and nearly twist an ankle trying to sort out the complicated choreography. By the end I am red as a beet, have a visible sweat mark down my bum crack, two breast milk leak marks and my legs are so wobbly I just have to stand still or risk a collapse.

I might make that thrice a week rather than everyday. Still it is good to get out.