She speaks about how the needs of a newborn are so clear cut, so simple, but the really tough stuff happens when kids get older and start having needs and issues that are sometimes outwith our control.
I remember when Charlie was a baby, and I thought that parenting was about as hard as anything in the world. It was relentless, exhausting, confusing and full or worry and guilt.
Why is he crying? Is he too hot? Too cold? Is he hungry? Is he tired? Why the hell won't he just go to sleep then? Has he got colic? Has he got reflux? Oh my god, does he hate me? He hates me, doesn't he?
People would say that as kids get older, it only gets harder, and I struggled to believe how that could be possible, I believed that I could cope with any amount of worry, as long as I was getting a decent sleep at night.
It's true though, in a totally non doom-and-gloom way, parenting gets easier and harder as kids get older.
As Lauren Laverne recently said in this article (which she was slated for, but I kinda agreed with), looking after a small baby is simple, in the same way that rolling a large boulder up a steep hill is simple. Hard, but simple.
They get hungry, you feed them. They get cold, you snuggle them up with a blanket. They poop, you change their nappy. Pretty much all of their needs are within your control.
The real challenges happen later, when things happen that you can't fix with a blanket or a bottle or a packet of wipes.
Both of my older kids right now have a few issues with friendships. Daisy is at that stage where kids (especially girls, in my slightly controversial opinion - purely based on experience), are starting to learn about emotional manipulation and the power of witholding friendship as a means of control...."If you don't do X, Y or Z, I won't play with you/ask you to be my class partner/invite you to my birthday party"
Now, I'm sure she uses these powers as much as anyone else in her class, but she often comes home from school with a sad face because someone has done this to her, and it's heartbreaking to know that she's having these struggles. She's still working through her own ideas of what's right and wrong, what she wants out of life, and how to cope with the decision of either giving in to someone else's demands, or having to face playing alone because she's said no.
Charlie has severe social anxiety, and often has major panic attacks. He struggles to make friends and this week was his end of primary school ceilidh, where they all celebrated the transition into secondary school.
Far from being a time of great excitement and anticipation, this has been really hard for him. They all took limos either to or from the ceilidh, and Charlie's was afterwards. However, the excitement of the hall being filled with people all running in and out in a circle, singing "Auld Lang Syne" and the hall suddenly filling with parents, as well as the knowledge of an upcoming limo ride was all too much, and Charlie had a huge panic attack.
It was so painful to watch all the other kids dancing around, giggling and running excitedly towards limos, while my boy stood under a tree in the dark playground, gasping and crying because he couldn't breathe.
Part of me wanted to scoop him up in my arms, to carry him home and protect him from everything, while another part of me wanted to shake him and scream "Why can't you just enjoy yourself like everyone else???"
So, so hard. I wish I could fix this. I wish so much that I could fix it all, make him confident, show the other kids the happy, funny, incredibly witty boy that I know and love more than life.
I wish I could stop my kids from ever being hurt, but I can't. They will have to navigate the choppy waters of growing up all by themselves (although we'll always be in the background, waiting for them). They will have to fall, not only fall down and get hurt but also fall out with friends, or fall in love with the wrong people and get their hearts broken.
They will have to be bullied, they will have to have horrible teachers and bosses, they will have to fail, they will have to get drunk and have hangovers, they will have to hurt, and bleed, and have moments where they don't know if they'll ever be able to get back up again.
It won't change, either. I'm 34 now and still have times where I cry to my mum about shit that's going on in my life, and she will also cry and say how much she wishes that she could fix it for me. I'm certain that she also has times when she wishes her mum was still here to fix it for her. But that's just it, we can't fix it, but we can be there.
The thing is, as much as we'd like them to stay tiny, simple babies forever, look what they'd miss out on!
I've had a lot of very crappy times. I've been bullied, I've had my heart broken, I've had horrible bosses and crappy jobs. I've failed and hurt and been abused, and I've worked my way through it all. I've learned and grown and become stronger and wiser and happier than ever.
I want my kids to have all of that.
I want them to marry the person who treats them amazingly, even though they'll write that kind of person off as being "too nice" a million times while choosing horrible twunts, until they've been hurt enough times to realise what's important.
I want them to do their dream job, but I want them to try and fail at many things until they learn what they're good at, and what makes them happy.
I want them to have awesome friends, but I want them to be bullied and mistreated and let down by enough people to understand what makes a really decent friend.
I want them to be able to afford everything they want, but I want them to struggle financially and do without and worry about money so that they have the sense to manage their money effectively.
I want them to hurt, and cry, and struggle, because as much as I desperately DON'T want any of these things to happen, I understand that it's what makes you who you are.
Most of all, I want them to know that good or bad, hurt or happy, they can always come home to mama and even if I can't make it all better, I'll goddamn well try.