Why I don't regret leaving London for two years and then returning

Even though it meant a fourth primary school for one of my children, and all sorts of other adjustments.

As a child, the only thing I knew I wanted to be, when I grew up, was a mother.

Not a writer, performer or rich and famous.

Just a mother.

Every Christmas, I asked for a new doll (Baby Shivers; a walking/talking doll) and I’d imagine I was already a mother to this baby.

In my teens and 20s, I did lots of babysitting and nannying in the evenings and holidays.

And then, in my late 20s, my dream came true: I became a mother.

Now, I would provide a stable base for my daughter and the two future children I hoped to have in the next few years.

We had a lovely house in London, a local primary school that we liked and a friendly community of people around us.

I was lucky that I did get to have two more babies.

And that I could design a freelance writing career that meant I could do every school drop-off and pick-up.

I wanted to have a career but not at the expense of time with the kids.

It seems there were many others who felt similarly, so I was commissioned to write a book - The Freelance Mum - about how I (just about) made it work.

That book led to me starting an online course business that became pretty successful. My husband quit his job to help me at home and with the business.

And life felt perfect.

But then it all exploded into chaos.