Lauren Booth on the pleasure and potholes of being a new, working mother. She’s excited to discover that brushing her teeth while on the toilet saves a whole thirty seconds!

The big picture

When Alexandra was born I didn't give childcare or my future routine much thought. ‘Wait and see’, I’d blithely smile when concerned relatives asked about postnatal childcare. Now, I’ve joined the legion of modern mums attempting to work, clean, change nappies and maintain a career all on a daily basis, and all without the aid of a nanny.

I work as a freelance journalist and broadcaster. I have deadlines to meet and I’m live on TV and radio several times a week. Looking back, I was dreaming of a maternal utopia. This week, however, after several eighteen-hour days, I ruefully accept that my dream has become, if not a nightmare, then certainly a crash course in crisis management.

Saturday
10am
The baby has no clean clothes, and I am reduced to stirring my tea with a knife – so I spend the entire day cleaning and washing instead of writing. Knock on effect is that I now forfeit most of my Sunday to work.

Sunday
7am
At my computer writing an overdue article.

2pm
Still writing. My husband has gone to his rehearsal and Alexandra is bored and wriggly on my lap. Feeling guilty because, although I haven’t yet resorted to sitting her in front of a ‘Tellytubbies’ video, most of her day is spent staring at my computer screen instead.

We go swimming together.

Midnight
Arrive home after Edwina Currie’s R5 show. Took Alex with me to the BBC and she gurgled noisily throughout the interview. In the studio, embarrassed the gorgeous TV presenter, who was also a guest, by breast-feeding Alex. She’s now wide-awake, damn.

Monday
7am
Did I mention I have a dog? A quick cup of tea, breast-feed baby, do Sunday’s washing-up and head off, en masse, to the park for our morning stroll.

2pm
MTV Studios, Camden. Alex sits on my lap during ‘Shoot the Messenger’ for E4. Bradley Walsh is the presenter and Rhona Cameron, a co-guest. On set, Alex screams hungrily throughout. Everyone is kind and understanding, but the result is that I have no idea what the hell the show is about or what I’m supposed to be saying! Filming takes ages and finally finishes at 9pm.

10pm
Drop baby at home with husband and rush to Sky News to review Tuesday’s papers.

12.30am
Barely able to open the front door, too tired. Give Alex her last feed of the day and tidy the living room in my sleep.

‘Multi-tasking’ has become my mantra. Yesterday for example, I had to bend down to pick up a sock. Rather than standing up again, I crouched around the flat, bent double, looking for other things to pick up at the same time. When my husband asked what I was doing, I said, ‘Saving my back of course.’ Not sure this is ‘normal’ behaviour.

Sometimes it works. When walking the dog around the park, I stop halfway to read my mail and feed the baby too, unless it’s raining. At my computer, I rock Alexandra to sleep with one arm and type one-finger emails with the other. I never walk to the kitchen without an armful of washing and always drag the rubbish bag downstairs on my way back.

Tuesday
1pm
There are some places that babies really don’t belong, and lunch with political hacks is one of them. Charlie Whelan and Peter Wilby of the New Statesman smoked, drank and generally behaved as expected over a business lunch. Meanwhile, I anxiously tried to hush Alexandra, who was interrupting important pre-election gossip with her fretfulness. Couldn’t enjoy the food or the company, so miserably made my excuses and left.

Wednesday
Excited to discover that brushing my teeth while I’m on the toilet saves a whole thirty seconds!

1pm
Take the underground into the West End with Alex strapped to me. I have lunch with patrons of a Charity at the Groucho club. My first treat of the week is a couple of large glasses of wine.

4pm
Feel like going to bed, but looking around, I see that dust ‘elephants’ have replaced the dust ‘bunnies’ of last week. Roll up sleeves and clean.

7pm
Spend the evening on the Internet doing research. Alex’s dad looks after her.

Thursday
5.15am
Baby in bed with dad. I get glammed-up for a TV paper review on ‘Simply Money’ channel.

10am
At my wits end because two articles are due today. Rush to my friend, Alison’s, and push Alexandra at her with a quick ‘See you at three.’ The phone is ringing when I get home. It’s Alison, I forgot to leave the babies bag, and so she has no food or nappies for her. I pick Alexandra up and bring her home. I sit her on my knee and beg her to fall asleep while I try and write my column.

9pm
Alex is finally asleep. She sensed that I was stressed and whimpered for attention all day. What else could I do but play with her? Now I start working, it’s going to be a long night.

Friday
2pm
Playing the role of a newsreader in a promotional film for the International Fund for Animal Welfare. Alexandra sits sweetly on my lap as I practise using the autocue. She’s already unfazed by the studio’s bright lights. When it’s time to film, the producer kindly takes her into another room until we finish.

6pm
It’s the opening night of my husband’s play. This means I won’t get to bed until 1am again, and this thought makes me feel hysterical. Although my sister will baby-sit tonight, I realise this isn’t enough in the long run.

The future
Despite child minders being so expensive, I will have to use one a couple of days a week. Otherwise, I’m going to be both a mediocre mum and a poor employee; too stressed to be spontaneous and too tired to be accurate.

On the plus side, I have spent four months full-time with my gorgeous daughter and realise that I can ‘get on with my life’ with her by my side - just not ALL the time. After sixteen weeks as a working mum with very little support, I finally know just what hard work means. I also feel that I’m up to whatever motherhood throws at me from now on. Oops-a-daisy, have to go, Alex has just been sick on the keyboard…