when people find out that I do this, one of the first things people say is ‘Oh my goodness, I could never do that, I’d get far too upset seeing the poor sick kids.’

It’s boasting onstage about what a crappy mum you are, while secretly crumbling at the notion that it’s true.

It’s looking at your family’s finances and how your ‘touring’ and ‘festival’ shows have all but killed them, and realising that you may, in fact, have the showbiz equivalent of a gambling problem.

Josef Frankl’s ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’,

Dancing like nobody is watching. Especially when the kids are watching. And their friends are over.

‘if this is as good as it ever gets, I am more than okay with that. In fact, I will be stoked with that.’

for the first time I feel like I’m finally enjoying my kids rather than enduring them.

And at the risk of sounding like a Boho cushion from Kmart: Life is short. Laugh hard.

Now that’s not to say that doing so is easy. Many times it’s really, really hard, but I remind myself that me being comfortable in that room is absolutely trumped by the need to be there for the child and the family. Shutting down your emotions means shutting down your connection.