Baby blog: Motherhood's a brave new world that's daunting and delightful

I was prepared for the onslaught of advice from friends, relatives and total strangers and had been sufficiently warned about the sleepless nights (although NOTHING can prepare you for the eye-watering exhaustion of dealing with a baby 24/7). But what about the bits that people forget to tell you to prepare for when you become a mum? During the first terrifying weeks of motherhood, here are some of my most notable lessons.

I was clearly invisible before

Five years I've lived in my village and the only people who have grown to recognise me time and again are the proprietors of our local curry house. Accessorise with one newborn baby though and everyone wants to know you. We're on first name terms with the doctors' receptionists and the waitresses at the local cafe, while the checkout staff at Asda fight to serve us. Strangers strike up conversations with us in the cashpoint queue, and we're practically celebs in Poundland. How many weeks is she? they ask, and for the 10th time that day I tell them how old HE is. Actually come to think of it, no one gives a hoot about me still. Just the cute little dude in the pram.

My rather stressful job was actually easy in comparison

'It's the hardest work you'll ever do,' they said. 'You'll be coming back to work for a rest!' they said. And they were right.

Because as stressful and long some days at work could be, they ended. They may have ended in me tearing my hair out, ranting out loud to myself as I battled the M6, and heading to the corner shop to buy one, no sod it, two bottles of wine required to 'wind down'. But work ends each day. And looking after a child doesn't. Ever. End. And that's rather scary.

I've learned a whole new language

From wonder weeks to fontanelles, let-down reflexes to cranio-sacral therapy, my vocabulary has practically doubled in the last few months. My conversations are full of words just a few short weeks ago I'd never heard of. This new language can however only be used with other new mums and no other person, who will either think you mad or intensely boring.

I have a huge new respect for so many people

Single parents - I salute you. Those who have twins - how on earth do you cope? And parents of multiple children - you are insane and amazing at the same time. But the person I have most respect for is my mum. Like many of us I've been guilty of taking my poor old ma for granted over the years. Only now can I truly appreciate what she put herself through to bring me up, particularly as she went back to work very early as she was the main breadwinner in the family. Now she's an excited new grandma, and is first to offer support whether that's washing our never ending mountain of clothes and dishes or steering us away from takeaway menus and forcing nutritious dinners down us.

Me-time now has a completely different meaning

It used to consist of a candle-lit hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book or an afternoon splurge at the shops. Now I dream of having a wee in peace or eating my tea with two hands, or even, dare I say it, while still relatively warm. Rather than putting off chores for days on end I dream of being able to wash up, or hang the washing out properly instead of flinging it on the line in seconds, an imaginary Countdown clock counting down until the next crying fit.

It's impossible to fight new mum paranoia

It started when the midwives brought our hour-old baby back to us after having a few tests and my first thought as I suspiciously eyeballed the staff was: 'what if they've switched him? Is he even ours? What if I'm going to take someone else's baby home and in 10 years time be the subject of an ITV2 programme called My Baby Switch Hell?? It heightened further when I left the health visitor alone in our front room with him as I made a drink and as I returned with our mugs feared she might have escaped through the window with him under her arm while the kettle was boiling. But it really peaked last week when, as our lovely young nurse gave him his injections, the thought crossed my mind that behind the sweet smile and gentle nature she was actually some Harold Shipman-type psycho poisoning my son. The worrying does subside, right? No? Oh.

Daytime TV is bloody awful.

Lucy from Homes under the Hammer's inane grin. Ben Shepherd's strange catchphrases on Tipping Point (what the hell is a 'cheeky little ghost drop' anyway?). The gall of Jeremy Kyle when he shouts in the faces of his guests, and David Dickinson's.... Just David Dickinson. We've got 100 other channels on cable but somehow I get dragged into the daily terrestrial merry go round of property programmes, antique hunts and cheap game shows. Thank god for Pointless and The Chase.

Many pavements are in a shocking state.

Apart from the time I got my stiletto heel stuck in a crack and had to endure the shame of a passing stranger helping to yank my leg free, I don't think I've ever noticed the state of our pavements. Now I'm in charge of pushing a four-wheel little vehicle around each day I am of the opinion that most are in desperate need of resurfacing after weeks of negotiating bumps, cracks and crevices. I'll write a letter to the council. When I have a moment to spare in 2031.

I should never say never.

"I'll never wear a sling. Or buy a dummy. Or dress my child in one of those awful slogan t shirts," said I, weeks before strapping him onto me in a huge piece of material, choosing from his vast (life-saving) dummy collection and taking the little man to the shops in his t-shirt emblazoned with the words like 'I'm the boss around here!' I also said I'd never describe him as the 'little man'. Ah well.

Mum friends are invaluable

They don't bat an eyelid if you're an hour late for your meet up (usually down to some sort of poo-related disaster) and barely notice when your baby decides to scream the house down or projectile vomits across the table while you try and natter over a much-needed coffee. They're on hand to offer nappies, baby wipes or a shoulder to cry on on a particularly bad day. And no subject whatsoever is off limits. You've only known them for two minutes but suddenly you're happily discussing the inner workings of your post-pregnancy nether regions and the colour of your baby's poo. Never underestimate the importance of having mum friends on hand - they'll be your lifesavers.