Today I'm Virtuous Mummy. I took my children to the park while a wholesome casserole was cooking in the oven rather than dragging them across the parish on endless errands then dashing home for fish fingers and peas.
I'm not sure why I bothered. The four year old announced he didn't like cooked carrots and the two year old only ate jacket potato. But I ate it. And as I'm eighteen weeks pregnant it's important to think of Baby Three, so often nutritionally neglected in the chaos I fear.
"I only eat what Daddy cooks," the four year old declared. As Daddy is going away tomorrow for a week, he's going to be hungry.
Tomorrow I'm going shopping for fish fingers.