He’s now nearly two and I’ve felt my old self eroding with the pressures to conform as a mum. Perhaps it’s the judgmental looks and small passing comments. If you think you’ve never judged a mum – try this. On a hot, sunny Saturday at 2pm, a woman is strolling through London Fields in Hackney pushing a pram. She’s barefoot and sipping from a can of Kronenberg. Do you a) tut slightly and scan from her can to her feet, b) say something about ‘that mother’ to your friend, or c) think nothing of it – she’s probably just left the picnic she’s at with her friends to push her baby to sleep. Of course that woman is me. Having a beer while your baby sleeps (can’t believe I feel the need to clarify that he’s wearing a sunhat and in the shade) isn’t a crime, but even in metropolitan London it can be made to feel that way.